Fireflies come out at night and so do the a permuesfreaks. This book of poetry and short stories is filled with sexual desire, experience, and fantasy. Open your mind, imagination, pull out your blanket and grab a jar of fireflies to light your path to eroticism.
First thing to know, even though tapping on the author’s name takes you to a page with Laurell K. Hamilton books, this is *not* written by her. I don’t know if this is an Amazon mistake or this author somehow did it, but the fact that the book has no author information in it makes me think there’s something shady about it.
Now, for the book itself. I know a lot of poetry is subjective, but this is just bad. There are numerous errors (like “thrown” instead of “throne”) and most of the “poems” have no rhythm. There’s also a difference between erotic writing and filth that sounds like something an immature frat boy trying to sound like a pimp / player would say. I finished it only because I won’t write a review if I DNF something.