Blazing Attraction: Love comes from more than one spark (Blazing Ember Book 1) Read online

  Blazing Attraction

  Blazing Ember Book 1

  LM Wilson

  Copyright © 2018 by LM Wilson

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my loving family for putting up with my craziness. And... To my good friends, Susan, Vicki, Amy and Kelly, without you ladies I'd probably still be stuck on the first chapter. A big thank you to the readers, I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  About the Author

  LM Wilson

  LM Wilson is an Australian author. Loves art in all shapes and forms. Between being a mother and published Author (both traditionally and Indie), has her hands full yet still manages to produce a book every couple of months.

  LM Wilson has been writing since the age of fourteen. First published at sixteen. Has a Diploma in English Literature and a diploma in IT Networking. Hundreds of published novels in all genres and several known and unknown Pseudonyms. She's funky and weird, but you can blame that on the fact that she lives upside down and backwards in the Land of Aus!

  Find out more by visiting my website;

  LMWilson.com.au

  Blurb

  My name is Emberly Celosia. I’m not your ordinary person; I know that, but there are times, like now, where I wish I was. I would love to be able to have a boyfriend, without burning him alive during the night. I’m twenty-four and stuck in a rut. I wake up every day and put out fires. I go to work and put out fires. I come home, eat dinner, and then repeat the same thing over again the next day. My life is hell, fire and hell.

  Until I meet three guys, who turn my life into a worse chaos than hell would be. They drive me crazy, turn me on and leave me questioning everything I've ever known.

  Can I trust them to help me find out the truth?

  Will they too betray me?

  Or can they stand the heat and finally give me a chance at love?

  Blazing Attraction is the first in the Blazing Ember Series

  This is a Reverse Harem, there will be a HEA with all the guys

  Warning; Adult content and sex scenes

  Prologue

  It's too hot. I wake to a plume of fire exploding into the darkness. Smoke billowing out like a mushroom cloud from the open doorway to my left. The fire alarm wails in the distance before making a final squeak, almost like a dying sigh.

  I run from my bedroom, not even stopping to cover my thin nightgown, into the lounge room as the flames grow higher and the smoke filling the room makes it harder to breathe. I’m so lost in my own panic that I just stand there for a few moments, watching as my parent’s house burns around me. Frozen to the spot, looking on helplessly as the flames engulf the ceiling and the walls. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek as the fire consumes a photograph of me and my parents. The picture was the last one we had taken, a trip to the local park, Dad had asked a strange old lady to take our picture. At the time I thought it was silly, but now as it burns beyond recognition, I’d do anything to get that picture back.

  Thoughts of my father get my feet moving again, I wrench open the lounge room door and the waft of fresh air hits both me and the fire; causing a backdraft that swirls around the room. I walk through the fire as though nothing can touch me.

  I've always been able to put my hands in fire, I've just never tried it with my whole body before. Not that I'm deliberately doing it now.

  The stairs leading to the second floor are filled with smoke, but I climb them anyway; determined to get to my parents and make sure they are okay.

  “Mum? Dad?” I cry out as my lungs fill with the acrid smoke. Each breath brings hoarse coughs that wrack my small frame. My parent’s bedroom is on the top floor, right above me. I know in my heart it's too late, but I stumble towards the second set of stairs anyway. “Mum!” I shout as my hand touches the flame covered banister.

  Fire licks at my flesh, almost like a lover’s caress. Ignoring the weird sensation, I yell as loud as I can, hoping for an answering shout from my parents. “Dad, answer me!”

  A hand touches my shoulder as I call out louder and I spin around. My rising hope is dashed the moment I lay eyes on the fire suit.

  “You can’t go up there.” The man in the fire suit throws a silver blanket over my head, pushing me back against the wall, away from the flames that are eating the banister. He forces me down another step, I fumble as panic and bile rise in my throat. I shove against the fire fighter, trying to break away from him.

  “No! My parents are still in there!” I need to get to my parents and I don't care what I have to go through to find them. I’ve already lost enough due to fire in my past, I'm not willing to lose more. This is all my fault.

  My heart breaks as the ceiling collapses, sending smoke, ash and debris across the room. The smell hits me before my own brain can figure out what it is, a charred meat smell that strangely smells like dinner. I glance up just as another section on the ceiling caves in, two blackened bodies fall along with the metal remains of my parent’s bed.

  I can't believe what I'm seeing, it can't be real. My stomach heaves and I stumble back a step. The firefighter’s grip tightens, practically holding me upright.

  The fire fighter pulls my head against his chest, trying to shield me from the grisly sight. "No!" I struggle within the fireman's grip. I have to save them. I have to get them out of here. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it really is too late but my heart is screaming at me, telling me that I have to try.

  "It's too late for them. We have to get you out of here."

  A scream rents the air, it’s so full of pain, it hurts to hear it. It takes me a second to realise the scream is coming from me. I snap my jaw shut and swallow the rest of my screams. It doesn't help my parents to lose my mind and it doesn't help me to feel the grief right now. I have to push through or I might end up being next to die. I've never tested just how fireproof I am and now is not the time for stupid choices.

  “We have to go the entire building is going to come down.” The fireman shouts as he grabs me by the arm. The blanket falls from my shoulders as I struggle to break free of the firefighter’s hold, pooling on the stairs like a river of silver.

  "No, I have to save them, they are all I have left." I scream uselessly at the fire fighter. "I have to save them." My voice fades out as I hiccup. “I can’t lose them.”

  Something falls, hitting me in the back, right between the shoulders. The fire fighter and I both tumble down the stairs to the ground floor. Dazed I look around me, the fire fighter is motionless at my feet. "What have I done?" I sob as I fall to my knees checking for a pulse. "He's still alive." I get to my feet and survey the damage; A beam pressing against his leg, a few cuts and a gash to his head, but nothing major that I can see. "I won't let the fire take you, I swear I'll get you out." I keep repeating it, as though saying the words out loud will make them come true. “I will get you out of here, alive!”

  With a strength I don’t normally possess, I heft the beam up, allowing the firefighter to roll free. He hits the banister, his head lolling to th
e side. I grab his arm, trying to get him to wake up enough to help me get him out of here. At first, I try to lift him but after falling on my ass a couple of times, I settle for dragging him by the arm towards the front door.

  Flames lick at my flesh, dissolving my thin cotton night gown. My bra, a charred mess of fabric and wire crumbles with each step I take, my panties nothing more than smudged ash clinging to my unburnt skin. I struggle to pull air into my lungs, coughing with each step I take. The heat from the flames is beginning to melt the firefighter's suit and I pick up my pace, determined not to be the cause of another death tonight.

  “One more step, nearly there.”

  I finally make it to the front door and I brace myself for the backdraft before opening the door.

  The crisp air hits my face, colder than usual for this time of year. The fresh air causes the fire behind me to swirl in a beautifully, deadly votex. I pull with all my remaining strength, trying to clear the deadly fire before it explodes. My lungs protest as they draw in a huge gulp of smoke free oxygen causing me to cough and splutter uncontrollably. Relief, then guilt washes over me; Relief that I could save the fire fighter, then guilt for leaving my parents behind.

  Someone runs over and takes the fire fighter away, someone else grabs my hand, dragging me over to the back of an ambulance. After nearly ten minutes of disorientation, and pure oxygen being pumped into me through a mask that was shoved onto my face by a paramedic, I finally have enough clarity to think.

  I stand there staring at the burning remains of my parent’s house, my heart shattered.

  My parents are gone. That simple thought brings another bout of tears.

  I watch as the rest of the house goes up. I stare at the flames, flames that should have taken me right along with my parents. This is the second time I’ve been caught in a fire.

  The first one burnt down our family home the first time my parents had let me stay home by myself overnight. The inspectors at the time, said that it was an electrical fault that caused the fire, but I don’t believe them. I know I somehow had something to do with it, I just haven’t figured out how yet.

  All the memories from the first fire were gone when I woke up in the hospital, the only evidence that I had even been in a fire was the small patch of burnt flesh on my left arm, just above my wrist. The nurse who tended to me while I waited for my parents to return from their business trip, swore that the burn looked like someone had grabbed my arm. The scar I have today isn’t much, just two rings around my arm, about three inches apart.

  “My chief tells me I have you to thank for saving my life.” I look up into the bright green eyes of the fire fighter who came into my family home, trying to save us. He sort of succeeded, but he couldn’t save my parents, no one could. Not that I blame him. No, I blame myself. I’m the reason they are dead, but no one would believe me even if I said something, so I just sit there nodding at the fireman. Trying my hardest to look innocent in all this.

  A strange feeling envelopes me as I see the fireman talking to his collegues. I saved his life and it felt good to do it. In this moment all I can focus on is that feeling, I can't quite put a name to it, but pride comes close.

  The police roll up onto the scene and the next thing I know I'm sitting in the police station answering a bunch of stupid questions. After telling the police for the hundredth time that I didn't see who lit the fire, they finally call child services. With no living relatives I had no choice but to go into the foster care system.

  Time seemed to pass in a blur after that, the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months. I stopped caring about everything; Being bounced from one foster home to another will do that to you.

  In my first foster home I was accused of playing with matches due to a small fire that singed my pillow.

  I'd been sleeping soundly in the small bedroom the foster parents said was mine, otherwise known as the attic, when an alarm went off. I'd accidently set the pillow on fire. It didn't take me long to put it out but the smoke had set off the alarm, which in turn brought the foster parents scrambling to the attic room to investigate. The assholes made me sleep on that burnt pillow the rest of the night. The smell of the burnt pillow stuffing stuck with me for the two days I remained in that home for. They sent me back to the authorities, telling them I was a pyromaniac and a danger to them and others.

  The second foster home said I was sleep walking and burnt the couch they made me sleep on. The third home had a younger girl living there, she was the kind of girl who believed the sun shined out of her own ass.

  Despite our differences, the foster parents made us share a room and I woke up to the carpet and her favourite doll burning. The girl dobbed me in, making sure she got her way.

  The fourth home was one of the worst though, the foster mother came in to my room to wake me up for school and ended up being burnt from her hand right up to her shoulder. Needless to say, I ended up being sent back to child services after that.

  Being only fifteen the state had no idea what to do with me, they called me a pyromaniac and sent me to an institution for the mentally depraved. The first night there my entire room caught fire, even after the staff had stripped me of everything including the clothes off my back; they still blamed me for the fire.

  Who would've thought the padded walls would be so flamable?

  The second institution I was sent to diagnosed me with sleep walking with arson tendencies, that lasted a month before they washed their hands of me and sent me to a more secure facility.

  Walburn's Institute was a nightmare, they dosed me up with every drug they could find to sedate me and ran tests on me, trying to figure out where I was getting the fire from. Eventually they too gave up and sent me packing.

  This continued for years, being bounced from one institution to another, until eventually they sent me to a place that I wish I could forget.

  The scientists who ran the place did test after test on me, trying to discover the source of my fire. No one ever figured it out though. My memories of the last place are hazy at best, but there is one thing about it that I'll never forget and that is Justin Dale; He was my first kiss, I still remember it like it was yesterday.

  The pattering of the rain on the glass above us is drowned out by the beating of my own heart. He lets go of our linked fingers, trailing his hand up my arm. Goose bumps explode as my stomach clenches.

  Cupping my cheek, he bends down, his perfect lips hovering inches from my own. His breath ghosts over my lips making them tingle. Mint mixed with cinnamon fills my nose and I want to lean in that little bit more, close the distance, but my nerves won’t allow me to.

  Before I can open my mouth and ruin the moment his lips descend upon my own. One hand still cupping my cheek. Turning my head slightly for a better angle, I wrap my arms around his neck, his free arm wraps around my waist, pulling my body flush against his.

  His soft lips begin to move, tasting me in a dizzying way. His insistent mouth parts, tongue slipping out to caress my closed lips. They part on a sigh and he plunges forth, sipping at the desire within me. Wild tremors run along my nerves, he’s evoking sensations that I’ve never felt before, sensations I never thought I’d be capable of feeling.

  I can’t take his gentleness anymore, I want the fire to burn, hot and fast. Taking control, I delve my tongue into his open lips, tangling mine with his in a dance of passion. When we finally pull away from each other, my chest heaves with the effort to draw breath. His chest however, isn’t rising and falling like it should. I’m so lost to my emotions that I believe he is holding his breath, letting me know he’s just as affected by our kiss as I am.

  I want more, though I know he won’t let things get to far. The moment he steps back, I know it’s over, his sapphire eyes dart around the garden, filled with panic and fear. Finally coming to rest on the doorway behind us, spinning to face it my hands fly over my mouth, holding in the gasp of shock. Smoke fills the doorway. The building is on fire, but it’s Justin's lips t
hat hold my attention; they are burnt so badly they look like melted red cheese.

  The building was burnt to the ground and Justin was flown by helicopter to the nearest hospital, in all the mayhem, I managed to run away.

  Chapter 1

  I wake up screaming, my breath coming in short sharp gasps. The dream was so real, I could feel eyes boring into me, accusingly. I’ve been waking up from the same nightmare for years. It’s always the same. I burn everything around me. Killing everyone in my path until there are only a few brave souls left. They hunt me down, trying to stop me from my warpath. I always wake up when the worst part plays out; the part where I’m the one who is burning from the inside out.

  The smell of smoke has me jumping from my bed and snatching up the fire extinguisher from where I’d left it last night. The flames engulfing my mattress are no match for the extinguisher. The moment the flames are gone, I turn the nozzle on myself, putting out the flickers that are crawling across my skin.

  Every morning it’s the same thing, the fire licking gently at my flesh without ever causing any damage, the cheap foam mattress engulfed in flames. I’ve given up having any real furniture, after nearly three years of replacing my bed or lounge chairs, it became too expensive to keep anything flammable around. I'm not a materialistic kind of girl, so it doesn't bother me much. Unless I want to sit down and relax after an exhausting day or lay on a couch or a comfortable bed.