Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Scarrry & Oh, So Sexy With Jamie Samms!

NG: *wild cackle*Ah ha ha ha ha haaaa! Today, I'm featuring Jaime Samms! Welcome, Jaime! What do you enjoy the most about Halloween? 

J.S.: Making costumes for my kids, hands down. I’m a creative type, and I love making stuff! Creating cosumes for them, and with them, now that they’re older, is so much fun.

NG: Your kids most love it too! Quick! You're about to be attacked by a horde of you think you could survive?

J.S.: Fuck no! I’m a whimp. I really am. Maybe if my kids were there, I’d find it in me, but otherwise? I have to admit, I’d be in big trouble.

NG: too, Jamie, me too! Okay, you've become a witch for the night...what spell would you cast?

J.S.: Is it too mundane to say I’d pull a Micky Mouse and enchant my vacuum cleaner and duster? I live with the dream that some day, my house will be clean and presentable. *sings* “I dreamed a dream…”

NG: An enchanted vacuum cleaner and duster would be wonderful! So, what's your favorite Halloween candy? Least favorite and why?

J.S.: OMG, least is easy. Those gawdaweful Halloween caramels (can you call them that?) in the orange and black wrappers. They are sooo bad! Candy corn runs a close second. Even my kids won’t eat it! My favorite is probably rockets. Or the caramel apples my great aunt used to make for us, drizzled with chocolate…mmmm…..

NG: Sounds delish! Let's talk about Ghosts & Lovers! Give me three reasons your tale will trick-n-treat your readers.

J.S.: Well, first and foremost, it’s a rare story about a hero who isn’t physically perfect. He has a degenerative eye disease and is almost blind. Second, it involves one of my personal favorite tropes: friends to lovers. To me, there’s something special about a friend willing to take the risk of showing he wants so much more out of the relationship. And third, it’s full of ghosts, and sometimes, it can be tough to figure out if a ghost is good or not-so-good. Tim has a lot of deciphering to do in order to figure out which spirits mean him harm, and which ones just want to be close…

NG: Oooo...sounds very intriguing! Jamie, thank you so much for coming on Simply Sexy Stories!

J.S.: Thanks for having me! It’s been fun answering your questions and sharing with your readers.

If they want to connect with me on twitter: JaimeSamms is my…um…what do call that? Twit-name? lol! I’m also on FB and Goodreads. Feel free to friend me! You can also check out my personal (though sometimes very lonely and neglected) blog at LiveJournal. My lj name is dontkickmycane.

Blurb: Timmy has lost one family member after another, and now he’s losing his eyesight, as well. It’s no wonder he holds tight to the ghostly lover who always seems to meet him in the park in dead of night when he’s tired of being alone.

Lately, though, Tim’s been hearing other, less friendly voices out of the dark, and his long-time friend and neighbor, Mark, is worried. When he tries to intervene and suggest Tim start acting more like the blind man he is, Tim refuses his help only to find he can’t hang onto his ghosts without paying a very personal price.

When his ghost lover finally says good bye, Tim finds he maybe should have listened to Mark after all, only now, it might be too late.

Prepare Yourself For A Scarrry & Oh, So Sexy Excerpt Below:

Tim leaned away, reached up to find an arm and moved his hand up to the shoulder, not
quite daring to go further. "I heard you. You took tomatoes from the neighbor's garden and
you slept on our porch with the cat." He gripped the flannel shirt under his fingers and leaned
closer, lowered his voice. "You took my father's shirt, and you sometimes climb up into the
tree outside my window." His voice was barely a whisper now and Gordon's nearness sent a
shiver through him. "I bet you watch me sleep."

There was a snicker, and Gordon jerked Tim's hand free of the fabric, crushed it in a tight

Tim grimaced, but didn't utter any sound.

"I watch you do a lot of things, Tim‐tim."

"Why do you watch?" Tim asked, trying not to let the pain into his voice. He felt his way
through the thick air, the threat, his own uncertainty, to find lips. "When you could do it with
me?" he whispered against those lips.

Gordon drove him to the ground under his weight. "What do you want me to do with
you, Tim‐tim?"

Tim didn't mind the reassuring weight holding him down. It was warm when they did
this, and almost felt like what they did together mattered. He ran a hand over the smooth,
cool skin of his companion's cheek, sliding his thumb along the side of his nose and over his
lips. He raised his other hand to the man's forehead and slipped his fingers over the lines of
worry there, down his face, gently over his eyes, exploring with his hands what the darkness
hid. "Kiss me."

"Kiss you?" The body above him rose a little, and Tim clung to a handful of flannel and
tiny buttons.

"I always wanted to, when you used to come at night and peer in the windows. I wanted
to sneak out and talk to you, meet you. But I never did."


"You stopped coming."
"No. Why did you want to meet me?" There was a hint of wonder in the question, and
Tim relaxed his grip to reach up and read the emotion with his fingers, in the slack set of the
man's jaw, his lax lips. He touched Gordon's bottom lip with his thumb and smiled.

"Because you could have snuck into anyone's porch, peeked in anyone's window. You
kept coming back to mine. Maybe I wanted to know why."

Gordon kissed his thumb and leaned close again, kissing along Tim's jaw to his chin,
pausing just before their lips met. "Because you left your curtains open." His hand snuck
under Tim's t‐shirt. "All that pale flesh on display. You did that on purpose."

"Maybe." Tim squirmed to get the hand where he wanted it, in full contact with his
chilled side. As Gordon's hand roved over his stomach and chest, he closed his eyes, and the
image of his partner's face came back to him. Long black hair and narrow features, dark eyes,
a sharp nose and thin, almost pointed chin. Most of all, he remembered the lust, shining from
his eyes and accenting his smooth, hairless features. He saw again the fine lips curved in a
satisfied smile as he watched. Tim's hips lifted, creating friction that met with movement
against him and made him moan. He turned his head, searching for lips and tongue. He found
them, as eager for contact as he was.

Gordon thrust a hand inside his jeans, and they both squirmed for contact, Tim shivering
as cold fingers wrapped around his hardness. He ground up into Gordon's grip, jerking his
hips against Gordon's erection, and moaning into his mouth.

Memories washed through Tim, of spreading himself, naked on his bed and waiting for
the telltale shimmer of moonlight on glossy leaves as Gordon climbed the tree outside his
window to watch him. The excitement of knowing he was under scrutiny always made it
better for Tim. Even when the view out his window began to blur as his eyes lost their focus,
just knowing there was someone there turned it into something other than a solitary, lonely
activity. The sensation of eyes on him became addictive, made it easier to forget for a little
while all the other things that weren't right in his life.

"Tim‐tim." Gordon's voice in his ear brought him back to the present. "Come for me, Timtim.
Like you used to, moaning, with your head thrown back, your throat exposed." His mouth
travelled down to cover Tim's throat with possessive, hungry lips. He licked at Tim's Adam's
apple, sucking the skin between his teeth, then travelled back up, close to his ear. "Come in
my hand, Tim‐tim."

Even as he spoke, his own hips moved, faster, harder, against Tim's body, crushing his
buttocks against the cold ground. Gordon's fist clenched hard around Tim as he came,
groaning into Tim's neck and jerking spasmodically against him.

"Don't stop," Tim gasped, hammered his hips up into Gordon, moving his cock inside the
tight grip, clamping his teeth around a harsh shout as he finished and sagged. They lay, for a
while, Gordon's lips roving over Tim's face and throat, and Tim's hands traveling up and
down, swarming over Gordon's body while the flush of orgasm cooled.

When they finally parted, and sat up, once again side by side, the smell of Gordon's coat,
his sweat and their sex mingled, filling Tim with a sad longing. Gordon had drifted out of his
life a long time ago. He sighed and stood.

"One of these days, Tim‐tim," Gordon said through a cloud of cigarette stench, his voice
immediately level with Tim. "One of these days, someone else will find you instead of me."

"Nah." Tim stood, snugged his jeans back in place around his hips, and oriented himself
back the way he'd come. "You'll always find me first. Or I'll find you."

"How do you know?"

Tim glanced back over his shoulder. He couldn't be sure exactly where Gordon was, but
he felt the other's presence somewhere behind him. "You hum."

"I what?" Gordon removed the jacket from Tim's shoulders. "I hum?"

"Yeah." Tim put a hand on Gordon's chest and felt the deceptive solidity through the soft
material. "I can hear it. The less I see, the better I hear you. It's like…" he smiled and let his
hand fall. "I don't know what it's like, but I like it."

"I knew I should have left a long time ago," Gordon muttered, but Tim heard the teasing
under the words. More seriously, he asked, "Does anyone else hum?"

"No." Tim shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Sis yells. It's all she ever
did, even before she was a ghost. I don't get along so well with her as with you."

"We never used to get along, when—"

"When you were alive?"

Ghosts & Lovers is available now with Pink Petal Books!

Curious about Jamie Samms?
Check out her website:
and blog:


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