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New release from Sommer Marsden

January 21, 2013

The Bad Guy
Writing in a bad guy can be difficult for me. I mostly want folks to love my characters. To root for them. I think the first honest to goodness bad-bad guy (and not just a stupid angry human) I wrote was Frank in Big Bad. When my beta reader told me that reading about Frank for the first time made the hair on the back of his neck stand up you could have knocked me over with a feather. And then, well then, I was just plain tickled pink.
I haven’t written a bad guy in that vein for quite a while but here I found myself writing Chadwick Montgomery. Not just a bad guy, but a dead, vengeful bad guy. He made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. And if you ask me, that’s the very best gauge of whether or not your bad guy is bad enough.
I hope my vengeful spirit is bad enough for readers. Oh yeah, and as always, I hope my good characters are ones they can fall in love with! A writer can always hope.
XOXO
Sommer

House bought for a steal online when it turns out there’s a damn good reason—check.

Malicious ghost with a body count to his name—check.

Sad, lingering female spirit pining for her still living (but currently dying) fiancé—check.

What’s a widowed medium to do when a departed soul asks to ride piggy back in her body?

To share her space and get under her skin? Juliet Bale does the only thing she can do—with her twin sister’s good counsel—she lets Lanie share her body to help her dying beloved Elijah cross over. The problem is that with all the reuniting, and sharing one body, things get seriously intimate and Juliet can’t help but see exactly why Elijah Rivers was so beloved.
It’s so wrong to sorta kinda fall for a dying man, and yet—check.

undermyskincover

Excerpt from UNDER MY SKIN by Sommer Marsden
Old Chadwick Montgomery gave it his best shot on my third night there. I’d gone to bed anticipating another steamy dream of coupling with handsome Mr. Elijah. I’d anticipated a sultry encounter intended to show me how much Lanie loved him, how their time had been cut short, what a good man he was…because I believed all that to be true.
What I got, instead, were frantic dreams of running. I would run and run and then fall, a wall of fire, or something similar that stung and burned but was indecipherable in my dream state of panic, would overcome me. My lungs felt stuffed full of cotton, my skin ablaze. I screamed but as so often comes in really bad dreams, no sound escaped me. No one heard me, so no one came to help me.
I woke with that infernal buzzing, rushing, crackling sound of whatever my inhuman nemesis had been. The sun was just up and the light in the room was a clear lemony yellow peeking around the blinds. I shook my head to clear the dream but realized the sound I was hearing was very real. Not part of the dream at all.
“Hello?” I whispered. No one was here but me, though. I knew it as surely as I knew my name and my birthday. Just me and the resident spirits.
Hurry…
The thought slammed me hard as something small and reddish brown floated from under the door and through my room. I had chosen the room on the ground floor. A suite of rooms actually that had an attached bathroom, a fireplace, a patio outside of two French doors. The white sheers that covered the doors shone with morning light. For all intents and purposes it should have been a storybook morning with bright light and a quiet street, me waking in my new luxurious suite of rooms. Queen of my new manor.
Instead, the mind numbing droning sound sharpened, making me feel uncomfortable, like I would scratch my brain if I could. The panic in my chest amplified and I knew it wasn’t my
emotion, but it was important. Another brownish blob zipped under the door. I watched in a stupor as they seemed to bob and weave toward me, and it hit me just as another slipped through the crack near the floor.
Wasps.
Mahogany wasps. The kind that could sting and sting and sting indefinitely and not die.
This was Montgomery’s evil energy at work. He drove the owners out of their new home, scaring them bad enough that they wouldn’t return. I had no intention of leaving for good, but as a fourth winged-threat buzzed into my room, I knew what I’d find on the other side of that door. And it wouldn’t be pretty. Or safe.

Buy Links
Resplendence Publishing:
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/539-978-1-60735-620-2–under-my-skin-by-sommer-marsden.html
ARe:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-undermyskin-1040115-140.html
Coming to other vendors soon!

From → Uncategorized

One Comment
  1. Oooh. Shivers and scares. Of the good kind of course. 😀

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