To the fans of Fireflies:
I hope you accept my sincerest apology for not coming out with the sequel yet. It was my intention to end with a cliff hanger and write a
sequel if the book did well. Don’t worry, “Fireflies II” is in the works and it
will be much more interesting and full of twists and turns than the first book
was. I will leave a sneak preview of it at the end of this blog.
I had to first publish a novel I had been working on for
years. In fact, I wrote “Fireflies” because I needed a break from writing,
“Enlightened Ones,” which was released this year. To understand this better,
you can read my blog on how writing about lesbian sex vampires is writing what
you know:
Anyway, life doesn’t always go as planned and my day job
and full time job of being a mother often gets in the way of being an edgy
underground writer. To make it up to you, I will post a free excerpt of the yet
to be released “Fireflies 2.” I haven’t thought of a name for it yet. Okay,
here is a sneak peak of “Fireflies 2” which will be told through the eyes of
Jessie, a character who is probably the exact opposite of Linda. Let me know
what you think. I might post more if you like it. Btw, Happy Holidays… wishing
everyone the most awesome season ever!!!!!
WARNING: The following excerpt contains sexually explicit material that may enhance the enjoyment of your consensual, romantic relationship, but will create a horribly awkward moment if your children get a hold of it...
It is my life that flashes through my mind as I watch
Linda on the floor, cursing me for not letting her die. God, she looks so much
like Ginger. I wanted to shove her face into reality and make her realize that
her ideas about what we’re supposed to be are nothing but illusions. I didn’t
ask her to make me into one of them and I don’t have to play by her rules. You’re
probably thinking that I’m horrible. Why couldn’t I just play along and be the
creature that Linda thought I would be? Let me ask you this: why should I have
to kill and prey on the innocent like they do? You ask: why do I fight my
destiny when it is so clearly set? Let me tell you the story from my point of
view and then you can judge me as harshly as you like.
I was never one to care
about what people thought and I always lived my life by my own rules. My
parents enrolled me in a Baptist school and I lived under strict Christian rule
until my parents divorced when I was twelve. The Baptists told me what I could
and couldn’t watch on TV and schooled my parents on what I should and shouldn’t
eat. My mother followed everything to the tee. Such a good obedient woman she
was. I couldn’t have the toys my cousins had. I couldn’t watch the movies and
shows they loved. Everything was evil and sinful and I felt a constant
oppression for I loved everything about life and I didn’t understand what there
was to fear. I suppose that putting the fear of God into a child would work if
she is not curious about anything and needs to be told what to do, but it didn’t
suit me at all.
I got
into mischief with my friend Sarah, Sarah Wilson. She was always scared at
first but would play along in the end. I think she admired my ability to make
her do things she wouldn’t do on her own. We never got caught putting mice in
the nun’s desk drawer or writing Satanic verses on the girl’s bathroom mirror
but when we got suspended for ditching school so we could spend an entire day
at the park, Sarah was forbidden to see me ever again and my world crumbled.
Perhaps I could have convinced her to come back to me but I could tell her
parents beat her bad. She had bruises on her wrists and a welt on her leg when
she returned to school. It was healing and barely perceptible but I was a keen
child and I noticed everything.
That was
the fifth grade. I might have had to attend that prison well into High School
had my parents not divorced that summer. I chose my dad for custody and saw my
mom on the weekends. My parents had religious differences and my mom just
couldn’t push her control on us any longer. I was free. I never thought I could
ever have a friend like Sarah until I reached high school and met Ginger.
Ginger reminded me a lot of Sarah but she was blond. Sarah was a brunette like
me. Ginger was healthy and bright and when she smiled at me, she didn’t smile
like that for anyone else. Ginger had the most intense intellect. She had a
fascination for reading books that were ancient, forbidden or translated from
another language. I could tell that daily life bored her just as much as it did
me but she always had her books to escape into and they kept her sane. Because
of her ravenous appetite for exotic knowledge, Ginger was sophisticated beyond
her years. Most of the adults had no idea what the contents of her books were
and she was introduced to the cultures and practices of exotic lands and times
long gone. I remember her saying to me, “Jessie, they tell us about the way
things used to be, that everyone got married before having sex and that
everyone respected their elders but I’ve read books from hundreds of years back
where people spoke up against the government. I’ve even read books about the
sex lives of people back then and we can learn a lot from them.”
“Okay,” I responded. “Teach me,” there was a short pause
and her blue eyes glinted as she laughed at me. Nothing was the same after
that. I always looked at her differently and she at me and that was when all
the experimenting started between us. But for me, it was more than sexual play.
It wasn’t just an education in the lost arts. I was falling in love.
All of
us High School girls read Cosmo magazine and there were always articles on sex
and how to do it right. It made us realize that for adults, sex is not a
forbidden act. Rather, it is a form of play. I remember reading articles on the
art of masturbation and we tried it together. We searched for our clitoris and
g-spot. “Have you found it yet?” she asked me enthusiastically.
“No… oh,
wait a second.”
Our
mutual masturbation session was our first really intense sexual moment because
we felt things in the presence of each other that we shouldn’t have been
feeling. It didn’t matter, what was private to me could include her. She was a
part of me then. I came before she did and she watched me gasp as I rubbed myself
more vigorously. I was hot and sweating and spent while I watched her climax,
her head falling back, her body heaving, her mouth moaning. She was so
beautiful at that moment. We both looked at each other in silence for a long
time when we were done, not knowing what to say. That was just the beginning.
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