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

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