Title: THE FIREFLY EFFECT
Author: Allie Gail
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 15, 2015
Blurb
It was supposed to be nothing more than a fantasy.
All right, so Iβll admit that maybe steamy, impulsive sex isnβt the ideal way to cope with a total stranger wandering into your beach house unannounced. But discovering that my anonymous lover is none other than Shane-the-Pain Becker, the dirtbag spawned only to torment me throughout adolescence…well, somebody kill me now.
To add insult to injury, thereβs a major hurricane bearing down on us and weβre stuck together for the duration. I donβt know which force of nature scares me the most β Hurricane Elliott or Shane.
***
Never in my wildest dreams would I have envisioned a scenario where Melanie Lane would be wrapping her sweet legs around me. Scratch that β there were, in fact, an abundance of wild dreams where Felony Melanie was concerned. I just never thought I had a chance in hell of making them reality. I mean, the girl thinks Iβm sewer scum and always has.
Even now. She still believes Iβm not good enough for her. Iβm assuming thatβs why she seems bound and determined to shut me out.
She keeps insisting this is just sex.
But as long as the hurricane keeps her trapped in my arms, I will make it my mission to convince her otherwise.
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Excerpt
Forcing my attention back to the manuscript, I am just drafting one of the pivotal scenes in the story when Shane comes strolling in. Guess it was stupid of me to expect any privacy. He stands quietly behind me and I can sense that heβs reading what Iβve typed so far, but I am determined not to pay him any attention.
That is, until I hear him snort a laugh.
Irritated, I turn my head to glare at him. βSomething funny?β
βCome on, Felony. You can do better than that.β
βI thought we agreed to retire that name. And what are you talking about?β
He points to the screen. βIs this supposed to be realistic? I could drown in the bottomless depths of your eyesβ¦give me a break. What guy has said that to you, ever?β
I narrow my eyes. Am I really supposed to accept literary criticism from him? The guy who once put a stink bomb vial in my backpack?
βIt isnβt believable,β he explains, leaning across the desk on his arms. His face is unnervingly close to mine.
βWhat makes you say that?β
βLetβs look at this logically. Judging from what Iβve read, it appears your two characters are in the throes of passion. Sex is already imminent. Theyβre about to get hot and heavy. Am I correct so far?β
βYes…β
βAll right. Well, first of all, at this point the guy would no longer be thinking rationally and intellectually. By now heβs already deferred complete authority to his other head, if you get my drift. The last thing heβs going to be doing is reciting poetry. It would be like trying to solve calculus equations while masturbating.β
I blink, surprised. Holy cow, did he just use the word masturbate?
βSecond of all, men are very forward and direct to begin with. Trust me, we are not the complex creatures you think we are. If you come across one whoβs spouting off verbosity like that, you should probably run the other way.β
βVerbosity?β I canβt help but smile. Thereβs another word I never would have pictured the Pain using.
βYouβre trying too hard with this. Cut out the ostentatious prose. Keep it simple.β
βBut simple is boring,β I argue.
βIs it?β Running an index finger along his bottom lip thoughtfully, he says in a low, impassive voice, βMelanie, Iβd love nothing more than to bury my cock in your sweet little pussy right now.β
WHAT?!
Fuck me sideways, did he actually just say that to me? Iβm not sure but I think lightning may have struck my panties. The electric current flowing down to the most intimate part of me is almost painful. My startled heart flutters wildly before picking up the beat in double-time. I stare into his smoky eyes, completely and utterly speechless.
βTell me. What sort of reaction did those words elicit from you?β
βUhβ¦β Oh my God, Iβve forgotten how to words. I mean talk! Gah!
βThatβs what I thought.β The faintest hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. βSee? Simplicity.β
Struggling to regain my composure, I turn my attention back to the monitor in front of me. βSo thatβs what he should say? I donβt know. It seems soβ¦base.β
βSex is base. If you try to make it anything other than that, it wonβt sound natural.β
I contemplate this. While what he says may be true, Iβm not sure it fits here. Iβm not writing erotica, after all. Itβs just a love scene in a romantic suspense novel. βI think something like that might be a bit too graphic.β
βYou can always go a shade more subtle with it. Take the crudeness down a notch.β
Heβs still watching me intently and I resist the urge to squirm in my seat. This is quite a riveting conversation. I should let well enough alone, but of course I donβt. Iβm rather enjoying this. βWhat do you suggest?β
βHmm…β The errant finger trails languidly across his bottom lip again and my eyes follow it in fascination. βHe would probably start by telling her what he wants to do to her.β
βAnd what does he want to do to her?β
βItβs your story, Miss Lane. What do you suppose he wants to do to her?β
βThatβs a very good question.β I watch the movement of his finger hypnotically. βThe problem is, Iβm not sure.β
βI would imagine that the first thing he wants to do is strip her down to nothing. He wants to hold that beautiful body close to his. Feel her soft breasts against his skin. Let her touch him, so she knows the extent of his arousal.β
Dear Lord, itβs getting hot in here. βAnd then?β
βThis is only speculation, you understand. But I would also imagine that he is aching to spread her thighs and slide his fingers inside, to find out if sheβs as wet and ready as he believes her to be. Now we get the female characterβs point of view. Is she wet, Melanie? Is she ready to be taken?β
βI imagine she must be,β I rasp. βYes.β
βBut this action distracts him from his ultimate goal, of course.β
My face might be flushed, but my hands feel ice cold when I clench them in my lap. βHow so?β
βNow he knows he has to taste her.β The dark eyes become cloudy as he slides across the desk, so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. βHe canβt prevent himself from teasing her with his tongue. Just enough to bring her close to the brink, so he can feel her thighs clenching and quivering against his shoulders. He needs for her to lose control. To forget every name in the world but his. He wants to hear her pleading for him to take her, fuck her, hard and fast and now. Now.β That last word is whispered.
I wet my lips nervously. βAnd does he?β
βOh, yes.β His smile is slow and deliberate. βHe most certainly does.β
About the Author
I was born in a charming but microscopic town in Alabama with a book in each hand. Well, maybe not literally, but you get the idea. I don’t think there’s an author out there who didn’t start out as an avid reader, and I’m no exception.
It was only fairly recently that I decided to resurrect an old high school interest and once again began writing. There’s something cathartic about breathing life into the quirky characters struggling to escape my imagination.
These days I reside in the beautiful panhandle of Florida with my own blue-eyed Prince Charming and three fat, pampered cats who are just tolerant enough to permit us to share the same house with them. As long as they’re fed on time, that is.
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Shannon
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