An island off the coast of Maine in the late 1940s
For Liam Dwyer, collegian and would-be poet (or at least really deep intellectual thinker), the Forsythe's summer-long house party had charming possibilities. At its best it might turn out as a simple little love story, with himself and the enchanting Laura as principals. Only, nothing was ever simple with Laura. Nothing. And when he was near her, his own actions and reactions were sometimes a surprise as well:
He could feel Laura's warmth through her thin dress, pressing against his side as they sat together on the pier.
“I . . .” he said.
She turned to him, batting her lashes. “Yes, Liam?”
Liam was beginning to sweat along the top of the lip. He looked into Laura's blue eyes. And then it hit him, all of a sudden. It hit him like a ton of bricks. It was almost impossible to believe but it was true: Under her clothing, Laura was was wearing absolutely nothing - she was totally nude. Nude! He was sitting only a few inches away from a lovely nude girl.
“Grk,” he said.
