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286 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 17, 2017
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"Earth to Dylan," he gripes, snapping his fingers at me. "Where my suit? It's not in the bloody cupboard where it should be."
"Do you want me to find it, or do a flamenco dance?" I ask sharply. "Because I'm sure that's the only possible reason that you could have for snapping your fingers at me."
He does this all the time, little moments of care and warmth in a sea of hot sex followed by indifference.
“The truth is that I will always need you more than you need me. It’s also the truth that I’m not a good bet for someone as vital and young as you. I’m bad tempered, a perfectionist who is too serious, and too used to being on my own. You could go out tomorrow and find someone better for you, but the truth is that no one will ever need you like I do. No one will love you like I do. I want you forever, Dylan.�
To: Dylan Mitchell
From: Gabe Foster
When I was a small boy, I liked to eat soil. My mother worried, but she needn’t have been concerned. Unbeknown to both of us, I was actually just preparing myself to drink your coffee.
The man fucks like a dream, but his coffee tastes like something crawled up and died in the cup.
"Sometimes we think that a certain path in life is the way we have to go. We see other routes, but we avoid them because we're so insistent they're not for us, that we might get lost or hurt. Then sometimes fate sets in, and someone takes your hand or waves you over. You step off your chosen path, and find that although this one is new and scary, somehow your feet know the way to navigate it. You might even find that it leads you the way that you were always meant to go."
"Love is fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell."
- Joan Crawford