Burning Down the House

Title: Burning Down the House

Author: Allie Gail

Release Date: March 10, 2014

Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDIEwHo3QWU

Synopsis

  2014 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award quarter-finalist Rob Kensington is just your typical high school senior. Athletic, intelligent, handsome. Sees a therapist once a week. Because his parents just died in a house fire of questionable origin. And he doesn’t seem to care. Maybe he isn’t so typical. Sara Marsh had no clue when she returned to live with her divorced father that the bedroom down the hall would be occupied by a stray with a major attitude problem. The last time she saw Rob, he was a brooding goth who could have passed as Marilyn Manson’s love child. But at some point during her three years away, Creepy Kensington managed to evolve into a sizzling hot star running back with smoldering hazel eyes. The attraction is undeniable. The temptation is irresistible. And soon they’re sharing more than just an address. But with another life lost in a deliberately set blaze, Sara’s trust is faltering. Has she lost her heart to a serial arsonist? He’s already shown her the allure of playing with fire. And someone’s about to get burned.
This book contains strong language and sexual content and is intended for ages 17+  

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Review
I was given this book by author for honest review. Sara has gone home to live with her father after her mother’s remarriage. Rob has had his parents pass away due to an accident and was taken in by her father to live there as well. This book has a little bit of mystery suspense to complicate further their lives. Sara and Rob fight against the attraction and some of the dinner/lunch conversations had me cracking up at odd moments.

 

Excerpt



His bedroom was dark but the door to the bathroom was wide open and the light was on in there. Okay, so he was just taking a shower. Nothing ominous about that. Maybe he just got home.

Right as I was about to close the door, the splashing sound abruptly ceased as he turned off the faucet. Then came the distinct click as the shower door opened. I knew it was time to leave but for some perverse reason I convinced myself it would be a great idea to stick around for just a little longer. The possibility of catching a glimpse of him au naturel was an irresistible temptation. So I stood there in the dark hallway like some surreptitious voyeur, even though I knew it was an inexcusable invasion of his privacy.

I couldn’t believe I was spying on him like this. It was wrong. It was pathetic. I should leave.

Then I saw him. Emerging from the shower, he stood in front of the bathroom sink with a towel over his head, using both hands to rub the excess dampness from his hair. And that was the only part of him that was covered up. I saw it all, and nothing in the world could have persuaded me to tear my eyes away from the spectacular view. The detonation of a block of TNT in the background wouldn’t have been enough to distract me.

He was more exquisite than I’d ever imagined. An earthbound Adonis. He was chiseled perfection.

I don’t know how long it was before I suddenly became aware that his arms had grown still and the towel on his head was no longer moving. And when I reluctantly pulled my eyes upward I realized to my horror that he could see my reflection in the mirror above the sink. He was watching me…watching him.

For the second time that week, I saw him smile.
 

About the Author

When I was just thirteen, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that one day I’d become a published author. Unfortunately, scribbling cartoons and silly stories during class instead of devoting 100% attention to blahblah-isn’t-algebra-exciting-blahblah was basically frowned upon. When I was fourteen, I made the decision to become the next Madonna. There was only one problem with that. Nobody wanted to listen to an off-key voice that sent the family dog running for cover. At fifteen, I was positive that acting was my future. A case of slack-jawed stage fright erased that particular ambition from the list. At sixteen, ballet became my new passion…until the revelation that truly dedicated ballerinas aren’t allowed to stuff their faces with pizza and cupcakes. Oh, and they also don’t typically possess a tendency to trip over their own feet. Graceful, I am not. Now, some years later – never mind how many – I’ve come full circle only to rediscover a lost love in writing. But now I use a computer instead of college ruled notebook paper – and thankfully there’s no threat of detention!

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