1Night
Stand
The
Fangirl's Dream
by
Fierce Dolan
He’s a
fangirl’s dream…
Siler Dunham would do anything to have Farraj Reza, hero of the smash network TV drama, "Endangered." Every week she tunes in to watch him calculate the rescue of fellow bus crash survivors trapped deep in the jungle by a ruthless drug lord.
A federal public defender with a penchant for saving the unsavable, she can’t resist his sad story, or his badass charm. When she seeks a matchmaking service to meet him, their one night stand isn't what she expected.
Forced to choose between unbridled lust and compassion, Siler must forgo her fantasy... or mustn’t she?
Siler Dunham would do anything to have Farraj Reza, hero of the smash network TV drama, "Endangered." Every week she tunes in to watch him calculate the rescue of fellow bus crash survivors trapped deep in the jungle by a ruthless drug lord.
A federal public defender with a penchant for saving the unsavable, she can’t resist his sad story, or his badass charm. When she seeks a matchmaking service to meet him, their one night stand isn't what she expected.
Forced to choose between unbridled lust and compassion, Siler must forgo her fantasy... or mustn’t she?
About the Author:
Erotic mezzofiction writer, Fierce
is imagination shapeshifted as a scribe taunting blank pages and carpal tunnel,
neither of which are much use for deadlines. Close allies are impeccable timing
and a trusty masseuse. Being a switch I/ENFP doesn’t hurt. For kicks Fierce has
other personas across several genres, tends to fill in “Other” on surveys
without explaining, and chooses the finality of the Japanese Tamagotchi.
Contact Details:
Website: http://www.fiercedolan.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fiercedolan
Twitter: https://twitter.com/fiercedolan
Enjoy the following
excerpt for The Fangirl's
Dream:
His lashes fluttered, then his
eyes widened. The gun didn’t waver. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
“I’m here for you, Farraj, or
whatever your name is. I came to meet you. You know—”
He pressed the gun into her neck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hawa’a. That’s it right, what I’m
supposed to say—some kind of watch word?”
He clenched his jaw and his cheek
twitched, and she imagined feeling it under her lips. “Who told you that word?”
Balancing on her knees with her
arms raised in surrender, she toppled onto her bottom. Grit clung to the back
of her legs. Something’s not right. “Madame Eve, the woman who arranged
our meeting. She told me to say Hawa’a, first thing.”
As much as her restricted movement
allowed, she looked around. Tiny beach. Palm trees. Crystal clear water. The
cove….
Annoyed, Siler nudged the gun back
with her elbow and stood, brushing sand from her bottom and smoothing her
wilting skirt. Sweat beaded her brow, and her carefully disheveled tresses
cascaded in limp curls over her shoulders.
“What is this?” Knuckles bracing
her hips, she glared down the lowered barrel. “This is not what I asked
for. What the fuck? Is this some kind of joke?”
Disappointment rolled in her
stomach and tears stung her eyes. I’m such an idiot. “You know what?
Let’s just forget this whole ‘one-night’ thing, and I’ll go home.” Palms up,
she took a step to one side then the other. The only evident path lay behind
him. She would have to pass him, and the shotgun.
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