#FireDownBelow Blogger/Author Double Doggie Style Dare Off!!


Welcome Bloggers and Authors!!

You have been carefully selected as a blogger or author who has put up with my nonsense before. This means three things. First, you’re amazing. Second, you have an open mind and third, you have a sense of humor.

I adore you for all those things. And now I want to do bad things to you. And not sexy bad things, just straight up horrible things to your beautiful mind.

You see, I’ve written the worst story ever told. Really. I liken it to Titanic meeting the Hangover, then humping Bridesmaids. It has romance, but also vivid second-hand embarrassment and potty humor.
Because it is so tremendously awful, I thought it would be a wonderful way for you to torture your fellow blogger/author friends. Why not take this fantastic bond you have and utilize it to let me fart all over your imaginations?

How can you pass this up?

Okay, you can totally pass this up, I’ll understand completely. And I promise I will keep writing normal-ish books in the future too.

What the hell am I doing anyway?

I like to call this event the Fire Down Below Double Doggie-Style Blogger Dare Off. Which is a mouthful.

That’s what she said.

We can shorten it to: OH SHIT! if you prefer.

What you can do is sign up for this atrocious bullshit and tag one (or more) of your blogger/author friends and dare them to read it, too. Here is the sign up form: THIS FORM HERE

Do you have to tag a friend? Of course not!! You can totally just torture yourself. Or just close this tab in a fiery blaze of disgust. I get it.

You’ll notice that the famous Enn Bocci is running point for me on this. I’m legally required to tell you that this is against her free will. In a moment of weakness she shared her secret meatball recipe with me. It’s the leverage I have to force her to do my bidding.

The release date on this monstrosity is 2/28/15.

Attached is the cover and some “I’m daring you baby!” graphics to help lure your sweet friends into my web of evil.

If you and your buddy both finish Fire Down Below, send me an email and I’ll snail mail you a prize! A horrible, weird prize. (PS this is not a bribe-y thing, I just feel like it would be a fun cherry on top of this shit sundae for you both. International is okay!) Or I can force Nina to light a candle for your souls at church. Either way.

Hoping to have the ARCs out to you mid-February. The book is 60k, and below is the godforsaken summary and a few short excepts so you can sort of take a rectal temperature of this dreadful festivity before you commit.

I love you like my poodle loves the couch throw pillows. Which is a lot. Which sometimes involves a spray bottle of water. If you know what I mean. *Wink. *Wink.

(P.S. If you already signed up for the OTHER Fire Down Below form that Nina has running, tits okay! Follow the link and click the “I already did this numbnuts!” option and plug in the name(s) of your victims if you have any. You will also get the ARC if you signed up on Nina’s form and do nothing with this confusing email.)

(P.P.enis. If you have any questions hit me up!)

XO Debra

ARCs won't be ready for a few weeks!!! Hang tight. Or loose. No judgement! Just make sure to fill out the form with your email!!

Summary for FIRE DOWN BELOW:

Dove Glitch is embarrassed about everything above her knees and below her belly button. When she has to fill a delicate, embarrassing prescription the last thing she needs is a sexy-as-hell temporary pharmacist at the counter.

Johnson Fitzwell’s first day of his dream career also happens to coincide with the exact moment Dove needs her UTI meds filled. His glorious voice is way too loud. Like he should be counting down the hits with Ryan Seacrest kind of loud. Due to Johnson’s sexy face and gorgeous jaw line, Dove finds herself stupidly asking for a vagina-scented cream in her waking nightmare.

She falls for him, how could she not? The only active goal Dove has now is to get Johnson to kiss her right on the lips. Either set. Johnson’s horrible girlfriend is one of many obstacles preventing that fabulous reality from taking shape. When Dove defends Johnson in the most disgusting way in the center of a crowded restaurant, their tender, slightly tantric relationship is off to a galloping, farting start.

Each print copy of this book will be dipped in Holy Water by my mom and glared at with pursed lips by my father. Neither thing will help. Slap on your rubber gloves, turn to the left and cough. It’s time to fill your prescription. Anally.

Fire Down Below is book 1 in the Gynazule Series

Release Date: 2/28/15

Mr. Fitzwell squinted as if he could turn her volume up by making his eyes smaller. "I'm not sure. Are you allergic to any types of VAGINAL medicines?"
Dove's mouth started talking before her head could shut her up, "Uh...I need to use very gentle soaps because I have sensitive... parts." Her voice was getting higher and higher.

Mr. Fitzwell looked as professional as a brain surgeon. He clearly wanted her to have the correct information. There were definitely stifled chuckles behind her now. Dove was pretty sure her ass was blushing as well. The crack was sweating all on its own, like it was on a super high diving board about to jump.

"Ok, Ms. Glitch GYNAZULE is not a soap. It will not work if you put it in and then rinse it off in the shower." He began patting the prescription paper to emphasize his words.

Oh God. We're talking about me being naked, in the shower with cooter cream. Please world end. Kill me.

"I know it's not soap. I just... if it's scented... I can't do scented. Flowers and stuff like that. Fruit flavored soaps make... things... burnish." She could tell from the peeks at his face Mr. Fitzwell had never stepped foot in bath and lotion store and wanted to try the array of fun fragrances. Nor had he purchased Peppermint Candy shower gel, foamed up his nether regions and felt like he had dipped them in lava. Dove crossed and uncrossed her legs at the memory.

Mr. Fitzwell seemed concerned. "Okay, just a heads up. It's definitely not good to put any fruits or plant life near your genitals." He made a 'V' with his two hands and formed his own pretend vagina in front of his pants.

Dove covered her eyes and tried to defend herself, because now she heard the sickly older woman beating her supporters with a purse.

Dove's mumbling got louder with her embarrassment. "I don't put weird things down... there. Just make sure that the cream’s vagina-scented. Just plain. For vaginas." She kept her eyes on the counter.
Stop saying "vagina" you screaming asshole. 

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