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The Sex Virus

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Overview

A clandestine society, financed by a billionaire, has created a new infectious virus capable of inserting genes which determine the way individuals feel about sex. The FBI and CDC have been targeted first, in hopes that infected personnel will hamper any investigation. The virus spreads rapidly, but its effects are not noticed by individuals to begin with-and when discovered, the change in sexual attitudes is not recognized as something induced into the body from an outside source. When an FBI investigator finally does suspect that something unusual is going on, the Center for Disease Control is contacted and brought into the investigation. It is quickly discovered that indeed a virus capable of changing sexual attitudes is spreading over the world. While the FBI and CDC are racing to discover the originators of the virus and to create a cure or vaccine, the investigation is hampered by the fact that the agents themselves are becoming infected. The men and women trying desperately to stop the sex virus have to cope with their own changed attitudes and hope the virus can be stopped before society is irrevocably changed.

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Author Information

Bio of Darrell Bain

Over the last several years, Darrell Bain has become one of the top best selling authors in the world in the realm of electronic publishing. Most of Bain's books are also in print. He produces a monthly newsletter, discoursing on various subjects brought up by fans or by his own voracious reading habit, written in an informal, narrative style. It is available around the first of each month from his web site at www.darrellbain.com Darrell is the author of more than two dozen books in many genres, running the gamut from humor to mystery and science fiction to non-fiction. For the last several years he has concentrated on science fiction and suspense/thrillers, with an occasional foray into humor and short stories. Some of his most memorable titles are The Sex Gates, Savage Survival, Alien Infection, The Melanin Apocalypse, Strange Valley, The Pet Plague trilogy and the Williard Brothers series. Darrell served 13 years in the military and his two stints in Vietnam formed the basis for his first published novel, Medics Wild, and the sequels featuring the zany Williard brothers, where the latest book has brought them up to their present day exploits. Darrell has been writing off and on all his life but really got serious about it only after the advent of computers. He purchased his first one in 1989 and has been writing furiously ever since. While Darrell was working as a lab manager at a hospital in Texas, he met his wife Betty. He trapped her under a mistletoe sprig and they were married a year later. Darrell and Betty operated a Christmas tree farm in East Texas for many years, which became the subject and backdrop for many of his humorous stories and books. The Bain family consists of he and his wife Betty and their dachshunds, Tonto and Susie, along with Velcro the cat. They still live on the site of their Christmas tree farm, though it is no longer in business. Darrell is a full time writer now and Betty is retired. They spend most of their leisure time reading. Mail to Darrell Bain can be addressed to him from his web site, www.darrellbain.com

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Additional Info

Imprint

Double Dragon Publishing

Filesize

597.29 KB

Number of Pages

160

eBook ISBN

9781554040933

Excerpt from: The Sex Virus by Darrell Bain

The muted ring of the bedroom phone interrupted Dee. She removed her hand from her breast where idle fantasizing had drawn it while reading a graphic romance novel; her nipple a firm mound under her tee shirt. She reached for the phone wondering who could be calling this time of day, and also why she had nothing better to do than read a trashy novel on her day off. It wasn't as if the FBI was giving her many of them lately.

She listened for a moment, grimaced, and hung up. Another telemarketer. Why couldn't it have been someone she wanted to talk to, like Jantz Preston or Mary Andrews They were the only two at the Houston regional office she had gotten to like in the few months since her assignment. And damn the telemarketers, anyway. No matter how many laws were passed or how many barriers she put up some still found loopholes into her system. Dee picked up her book again wondering what had compelled her to seek out something like this. Her usual reading material ranged from science fiction to mysteries, with thrillers thrown in for variety.

She stretched out with her head propped on pillows allowing her thick mane of wavy black hair to spill down over her shoulders. She twirled a lock around one finger. The book cover featured the standard bosom-revealing heroine clasped in the arms of a larger-than-life, bronzed muscular man. As if any men looked that way, Dee thought, turning back to the passage, trying to recapture the fey mood that came over her more and more often lately.

... his hand stole to her breast in sneaky increments while he sent a questing tongue...

Dee again became absorbed in the lurid descriptions. Before she knew it she was mimicking the male protagonist in the story, cupping and fondling her breasts while imagining he was doing it, except that the character resembled Jantz Preston. Her breathing deepened and became more rapid. Suddenly, Dee became the person she was fantasizing about: Mary with the blue eyes and loose blond hair she saw at work, only now she was undressed, breasts swaying as she leaned over her. Dee became aware of how forcefully she responded to the fantasy, and flung the book away and rolled onto her stomach.

Her breasts flattened, her nipples rubbing against their covering causing her lower body to react. Her hips squirmed, pressing down against the bed in frustration. She felt as if the thermostat had been turned up. She rolled back over, and closed her eyes trying to visualize Jantz in bed beside her. Damn it, what did he see in Lisanne, anyway Her hand crept down to the waistline of her white shorts. Her fingers played with the hem of her tee shirt, inching it up until she felt bare skin. But again, it became Mary she thought of and it was Mary's fingers she imagined sliding beneath the fabric of her shorts.