While researching the adult industry one day, I discovered that—according to various escort classifications—I am a mere month away from being a cougar.
This was a little surprising to me as I’m about to turn 35, and while I expect I might end up part-cougar one day, I was sure I was still a puma (cougar in training) until at least 40!
Fortunately, I wasn’t fazed. I have always admired cougars, both on film and in print—and this is why I’m excited about my guest and her new book! The sweet and legendary Sommer Marsden is here, and today, she’s going to tell us about vulnerability, house parties, and one super sexy cougar and cub pairing.
So without further adieu…take it away, Sommer!
Vulnerable is a scary word…
In The Accidental Cougar Abbey finds herself vulnerable in many ways. Some of them aren’t really under her control. For instance, how she’s beginning to feel about young, handsome Charlie despite how many reasons her racing mind can supply not to. Others, she finds herself submitting to willingly despite nervousness. She trusts Charlie so she makes herself vulnerable in situations that seem completely foreign to a forty-something woman who’s been with the same man for more than half her life.
Such as a house party.
The house party scene finds Abbey surrounded by people much younger than herself and trying hard to fit in without pretending to be someone she’s not. A difficult position that would leave even the most stoic of us struggling.
Ironically, this wasn’t a hard scene to write. When it comes to large parties with lots of people I don’t know I can give social anxiety a run for its money. When I wrote it, I’d also just watched one of my favorite 80’s movies Jennifer 8 and felt that Christmas Eve party scene served as good inspiration for how turned around and upside down Abbey was feeling.
XOXO
Sommer
From THE ACCIDENTAL COUGAR by Sommer Marsden
“Ladies, this is Charlie’s date, Abby. Abby, this is my girlfriend Beverly.” The long legged, brunet with startling blue eyes nodded. She was decked out in skinny jeans, ankle boots and a gray sweater that played up those eyes to perfection.
She smiled at me but the smile didn’t touch her eyes. “And this is Dan’s girl Angie. And here we have Shea, Kendall’s girlfriend.” The two blondes turned to eye me up. Both gave equally stiff smiles and they muttered “hi”.
“I’m taking Charlie boy down to bail first. Otherwise I won’t get a day’s work out of him,” Ken said.
Charlie had found us and he gave me a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.”
I could feel the three witches—I mean girls—watching me and I had to think fast. “Do you mind showing me to the powder room before you go?”
One of the girls slid her eyes my way and I held my breath when she said, “Oh, I can show her, Charlie.”
Charlie felt my arm go tense. I’d looped it through his just for the contact. I hated this.
Hated feeling out of place. Hated feeling desperate not to be alone with people. I’d conquered my mild social anxiety years ago. When you have young kids you can’t be shy. But this—this was worse than anything I’d ever encountered. I felt ready to bolt like a frightened horse.
“That’s okay, Bev. It’s on the way.” He maneuvered me through the candle and flashlight lit home. People banged into us, some laughing too hard, some caught in quiet conversation.
“Please don’t leave me,” I said. I felt my face grow hot and red with blush. Thank God he couldn’t see.
We stopped in front of the bathroom. Someone had thought to put a tall sconce with a candle inside on the sink. That way no one would drown in the toilet.
“It’s fine. I promise. I’ll go bail.” He waved his Solo cup and laughed. “Take my turn, do my duty and come rescue you. Then we can find a dark corner and make out. It’ll be really dirty and fun.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. That part of the scenario sounded nice. The part where he’d go bail and leave me up here, not so much. I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I’m being a baby.”
He hugged me, kissed me once on the lips while someone by the basement steps yelled, “Charlie! No escaping your man-duty, dude!”
“I’ll be right back, Ace. Promise.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, lying full-on to his face.
I went to the bathroom, watched myself in the large vanity mirror as I washed my hands.
I looked younger in the candlelight. Maybe I could carry a candle around on all my dates with Charlie.
Tears pricked my eyes. “Stop the pity party, Ace,” I said to myself in the mirror. The crazy yellow-orange flickering glow matched how tumultuous I felt inside. “You’re a grown woman who should be able to stand with a handful of twenty-somethings and have a conversation. Even if you’re faking it.”
Instead of leaving, I sat on the edge of the tub and tried to let time pass. So what if they thought I’d died in here? So what if I’d told Charlie I’d try and have fun but instead had tucked myself away from the party? So what?
Someone banged on the door and I jumped. I glanced at my phone’s illuminated screen.
Only about ten minutes had passed but it was long enough that people were probably waiting to come in.
“Yo! Someone needs to get in there!” the mystery person called.
“Coming!” I yelled. I stood, inhaled deeply and opened the door.
A guy with his cap on backwards ushered a girl inside. She wasn’t looking too steady on her feet and judging by the way she lurched toward the toilet, she wasn’t feeling too steady either. I managed to slip out the door before the retching began.
Since it was dark and only lit by splashes of orange candle glow or stark white flashlight illumination, I seemed to ping-pong from cluster of people to cluster of people. I took a left thinking I’d find the girls again—not that I was in any hurry to see them, but instead I found myself by the front door. I overheard someone say, “…as old as my mom. At least.”
I turned on my heels and tried the opposite direction.
They’re not necessarily talking about you. I tried to talk myself down but I wasn’t buying it. Who else would they be talking about? I hadn’t seen any other forty-somethings here at this noisy house party. Just me and a bunch of kids.
Blurb:
What would be the harm in a little fling? What would be so bad about bedding a young man who could technically be my son? He wasn’t my son. He wasn’t my anything. But he could possibly, if I could unclench my ass long enough, be my lover.
My lover.
What was so bad?
Buy Links:
Excessica: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=42&products_id=697
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-accidental-cougar-sommer-marsden/1119329616?ean=2940149318216
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theaccidentalcougar-1487017-149.html
Author Bio:
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 Lost in You, Restricted Release, Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit, and Learning to Drown. Visit http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
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Thanks so much for joining us, Sommer!
And oh, I can’t wait to get my hands on this one! (Or to potentially be a cougar, for that matter.)
XX,
Jade
Oh wow. Can I relate to that one. I’m at least ten years older than a lot of my friends, and when I first started hanging out with them, I felt SO out of place. But you have to have the confidence to just surge forward. Experience trumps youth every time.
I completely agree (and thank you for sharing, Miz)! I mentioned I might end up part-cougar, but often I date older anyway. Experience is indeed a plus. 🙂 Some of my dearest friends are 10-20 years older than me, so I would say your friends are quite lucky to gain your wisdom!