Fellow erotica author Sommer Marsden‘s husband is battling cancer, so the fine folks of Smut For Good have organised ‘A Snog For Summer‘. I’m all for smut for good causes, so of course I’m participating. If you can, please donate here, or help spread the word. All donations will go straight to Sommer and her family and you can donate until 20 September. All info here >> (Where you will also find a list of the participating authors and can hop along to their blogs and win some prizes in the process.)

I’m also giving away 1 signed paperback (or e-book, if you prefer) copy of Summer’s End to a randomly chosen commenter.

The snog I’ve chosen is from my novel At the Water’s Edge (out in November). It’s a very early sneak peek (and the text needs more editing), but I just couldn’t resist. It’s kind of a big deal for me to be posting this excerpt so early on, but this novel has been on my mind for so long now, I think I need to start sharing. 😉 (And it’s for a good cause!)

Before I can change my mind, I swim to the edge and, just as Kay returns, wrapped in a plush white towel, an extra one rolled up under her arm for me, I push myself out of the water. I notice how her glance lingers on my body, how all movement of her muscles momentarily stops.

“Here’s your towel,” Kay mumbles.

“Forget the towel.” I step closer, pull her towards me, close my eyes and kiss her. The earth doesn’t stop turning, but my head does spin. Because, in the pit of my stomach, I feel that this kiss is the beginning of something I already know I will never be able to live without.

When Kay grabs the back of my head with one hand, the touch of her fingertips travels through my system with tingling pangs. When we come up for air and our eyes meet, her towel-wrapped body a white spot in the darkness of the evening, any thought of what should or should not happen has fled my brain.

“What does it feel like?” she asks, her voice low and husky. “To stop worrying and give yourself the time and space to enjoy the moment?”

“Fucking hot.” I barely recognize my own voice. I’m still standing there naked, every nerve-ending in my body pulsing with that old, forgotten ache.

“Come here.” Kay unrolls the towel and brings it behind my back, tugging me closer towards her with it. “I’m all for a bit of indecent exposure, but there are limits to everything.” She casts one last, longing glance across the front of my body before tucking a corner of the towel underneath the hem of the other end.

“You come here.” I lift my arms to pull her closer again, undoing her efforts as it makes the towel slide right off me, exposing my tortured nipples to the breezy night air. Neither one of us cares about indecent exposure anymore as our lips lock and our tongues explore each other’s mouth in another instant I will never forget.

Much more about At the Water’s Edge closer to its release date. Meanwhile, spare a thought (or a few dollars) for Sommer and her family…