The Fangirl’s Dream
by Fierce Dolan
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?
Excerpt
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?”
Jaw clenched, 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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About Fierce
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.
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