We have Marina Vivancos stopping by today with her new release Nights Without Night. Read an exclusive excerpt from Marina’s new book and enter the giveaway for a chance to win an ebook copy of both books in the Fox Lake Series!
Title: Nights Without Night
Series: Fox Lake Series #2
Author: Marina Vivancos
Release Date: 18th June 2018
Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex
Length: 60,000 words
Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Childhood Friends, Mental Health
Isadoro and Iván have known each other since before memories were memories, when they were just the imprint of shape and sound pressed inside your head. They were raised together in La Portera, between the orange trees and water reservoirs, under an endless blue sky. Where they grew up is where Iván’s love for Isadoro grew, too. There, from the earth and the water, organic and helpless.
Iván had grown used to this love. He’d grown used to absence, too.
Isadoro left for the military when they were both eighteen and took a piece of Iván with him. It was as inevitable as the baking sun and sandy winds of those lands. Iván didn’t know how to fight it.
A thread between them remained. Phone calls, Skype sessions, rests between tours. But it was never quite enough.
After eight years, Isadoro comes back. At his core, he is the same man Iván has always known. But life has transformed them both from the malleable shapes of childhood and into the stiffer skin of adults. The situation is complicated further when they rekindle the ‘benefits’ portion of their friendship. The heat between them has always been undeniable, and now it scorches through them.
In the beginning, all seems well. But there are creatures under calm water. When they breach the surface, both Isadoro and Iván must learn how to help each other, but also to save themselves.
Please note: This story contains themes of affected mental health following the return from military combat. However, the ultimate focus of the story is on hope and recovery.
This story also contains very explicit scenes of a sexual nature.
I had my first kiss during a game of spin-the-bottle when I was fifteen. It had landed on a boy named Brandon, and he’d blushed when he kissed me. So had I.
The party had been near La Portera, and Isadoro and I had walked back in the balmy summer air. We had sneaked into my room, giggling and trying to pretend we weren’t buzzed. Isadoro slept over so often that the camp bed in my room was almost permanently unfolded and I’d thrown myself on my bed, looking giddily up at the ceiling as he sat on his.
“Spin-the-bottle kisses don’t count as first kisses, you know,” Isadoro had said suddenly, cutting through my high. I’d turned my head to glare at him.
“Says everyone,” he said.
I’d rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the flare of annoyance.
“Don’t worry, I can give you your first kiss, ‘cause I’m such a good friend,” he’d offered haughtily.
“Keep it,” I’d snorted, even though my heart had started racing.
“You’d let Brandon kiss you, but not me?” Isadoro’s voice said. I blinked at the ceiling. I suddenly felt the alcohol, the room spinning. Or was that just the blood in my veins? I closed my eyes. I could hear the summer bugs sing outside, and then the sound of the camp bed creak as he got up. I felt the dip of my bed and then him, over me, straddling me without touching me, just the warmth of his legs at my sides.
I’d opened my eyes slowly. His face had tried to be mischievous, but his eyes were serious. There wasn’t a single thought in my head. Everything was rushing through me. I couldn’t speak, my mouth dry, and when I licked my lips his eyes followed the movement. I had never felt anything like the jolt that went through me then.
As if it were happening to someone else, I watched him lean down toward me and then—a press of lips. The world became a trembling series of new experiences. The feel of his lips, dry and wet at once. The foreign feeling of them moving against me, and me trying to move against them. The brush of his breath. The moment when he settled on my stomach.
Isadoro had been right. The spin-the-bottle kiss couldn’t compare.
My hand, magnetized by the press of our bodies, was somehow guided to the back of Isadoro’s neck. At the moment of contact, a small noise escaped Isadoro and suddenly, his tongue was in my mouth. It was wet and uncoordinated, and even then I hadn’t been sure it was just my inexperience at play.
He had pulled back to let us breathe, and I had felt the warmth of his panting against my mouth. I couldn’t open my eyes. When he leaned down again, the kiss had been better. Smoother. I’d disappeared into it until I felt myself get hard, out of control in the way your body is not yet all yours when you’re fifteen.
Suddenly, it had been too much. I’d pushed him away. Isadoro had looked at me with startled, dark eyes, and rolled off me, chest heaving. I’d sat back and raised my knees, a barrier between us. We’d listened to each other breathe heavily until he cleared his throat. I’d peeked at him through my fringe.
“There. Now you’ve had your first kiss,” he’d said. I hadn’t pointed out the waver in his voice.
We had gotten ready for bed in the darkness. I could feel his presence as I lay down in the quiet and the summer heat.
That hadn’t been the beginning of my feelings for him, but it had been the final nail in the coffin.
In the morning, it was as if nothing had happened. Isadoro had continued his conquering ways, but never with another boy. I came out as gay a year later. No one had been much surprised.
It isn’t that Isadoro’s current lack of partners is unusual for his situation, despite his teenage history. It’s just that casual hook-ups had been common during leave, and so their current absence is noticeable. Now, though, he’s not back for leave—he’s back for good, and maybe that changes things. A selfish, jealous part of me is glad, the one that wants to keep him for myself. Sometimes, it feels like I have too little of him. That I’d take anything he’s willing to give.
But, as they say—be careful what you wish for.
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Meet the Author
When Marina was a child she couldn’t sleep. Night after dissolving night she just couldn’t sleep. Nothing much worked – until she started making up stories in her head. Suddenly, the transition into unconsciousness was a smooth dive into calm waters.
Marina is currently in a period of sleepless upheaval, and she hopes writing down the stories in her head will cast the same spell it did decades ago.
Marina hopes to write in a variety of romance sub-genres, from contemporary to supernatural to sci-fi. Her style, however, tends to focus on character-centred stories that explore different facets of the human experience, such as mental health. She also enjoys writing explicit, drawn-out sex scenes, so expect those to be a prominent feature of her stories.