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 I’ll admit that maybe steamy, impulsive
sex isn’t 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, there’s a major hurricane
bearing down on us and we’re stuck together for the duration. I don’t know which
force of nature scares me the most – 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 – 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 I’m sewer scum and always has.
Even now. She still believes I’m not good enough for
her. I’m assuming that’s 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 he’s reading what I’ve 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. “Something
funny?”
“Come on, Felony. You can do better than
that.”
“I thought we agreed to retire that name. And what
are you talking about?”
He points to the screen. “Is this supposed to be
realistic? I could drown in the bottomless depths of your eyes…give me
a break. What guy has said that to you, ever?”
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?
“It isn’t believable,” he explains, leaning across the
desk on his arms. His face is unnervingly close to mine.
“What makes you say that?”
“Let’s look at this logically. Judging from what I’ve
read, it appears your two characters are in the throes of passion. Sex is already
imminent. They’re about to get hot and heavy. Am I correct so far?”
“Yes…”
“All right. Well, first of all, at this point the guy
would no longer be thinking rationally and intellectually. By now he’s already
deferred complete authority to his other head, if you get my drift. The last thing he’s
going to be doing is reciting poetry. It would be like trying to solve calculus
equations while masturbating.”
I blink, surprised. Holy cow, did he just use the word
masturbate?
“Second 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 who’s spouting off verbosity like that, you should probably run the
other way.”
“Verbosity?” I can’t help but smile. There’s another
word I never would have pictured the Pain using.
“You’re trying too hard with this. Cut out the
ostentatious prose. Keep it simple.”
“But simple is boring,” I argue.
“Is it?” Running an index finger along his bottom lip
thoughtfully, he says in a low, impassive voice, “Melanie, I’d love nothing more than
to bury my cock in your sweet little pussy right now.”
WHAT?!
Fuck me sideways, did he actually just say that to
me? I’m 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.
“Tell me. What sort of reaction did those words
elicit from you?”
“Uh…” Oh my God, I’ve forgotten how to words. I
mean talk! Gah!
“That’s what I thought.” The faintest hint of a smile
tugs at the corners of his mouth. “See? Simplicity.”
Struggling to regain my composure, I turn my
attention back to the monitor in front of me. “So that’s what he should say? I don’t
know. It seems so…base.”
“Sex is base. If you try to make it anything other
than that, it won’t sound natural.”
I contemplate this. While what he says may be true,
I’m not sure it fits here. I’m not writing erotica, after all. It’s just a love scene in a
romantic suspense novel. “I think something like that might be a bit too
graphic.”
“You can always go a shade more subtle with it.
Take the crudeness down a notch.”
He’s 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 don’t. I’m rather enjoying this. “What do you suggest?”
“Hmm…” The errant finger trails languidly across his
bottom lip again and my eyes follow it in fascination. “He would probably start by
telling her what he wants to do to her.”
“And what does he want to do to her?”
“It’s your story, Miss Lane. What do you suppose he
wants to do to her?”
“That’s a very good question.” I watch the
movement of his finger hypnotically. “The problem is, I’m not sure.”
“I 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.”
Dear Lord, it’s getting hot in here. “And
then?”
“This 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 she’s as wet and ready as he believes her to be. Now we get the female
character’s point of view. Is she wet, Melanie? Is she ready to be taken?”
“I imagine she must be,” I rasp. “Yes.”
“But this action distracts him from his ultimate goal,
of course.”
My face might be flushed, but my hands feel ice cold
when I clench them in my lap. “How so?”
“Now he knows he has to taste her.” The dark eyes
become cloudy as he slides across the desk, so close I can feel his breath on my
cheek. “He can’t 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.” That last word is whispered.
I wet my lips nervously. “And does he?”
“Oh, yes.” His smile is slow and deliberate. “He most
certainly does.”
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.
Connect with
Allie
Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
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