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214 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 4, 2012
While reading the book, you get to experience the book, some points of it were so well described, I could actually smell, feel and see everything.
) so the ending left me with hope that they willl work everything out
considering everything, they deserve to have a big and beautiful HEA
Afflicted by love’s madness all are blind. – Sextus Propertius
The question hung like flypaper swirling in the air, all the dead carcasses a tribute to that particular twist in life called consequences, which in this case remained unspoken.
Maybe he had been using the stink of independence to cover up his loneliness.
…and wondered what it would be like to wake up next to someone like him and not feel like an accessory, not feel…disposable.
Look at my gay blind friend, aren’t I so socially forward?
…he wrapped himself around Hunter like a soft vice of hard passion.

Inside, all he could think about was the sound and the smell and the blood of Dillon. The feel of his arms, the breadth of his chest, how he nibbled as he wrapped himself around Hunter was like a soft vice of hard passion. He was a mallet banging on things well beyond, and deep inside, that place where the darkness of Hunter's missing vision could not go.
He could smell the cigarettes in Dillon's hair and suddenly he wanted to ride Dillon's cock while he smoked one. He wanted to drag Dillon back to the couch naked as hell, straddle him, and lick Dillon's chest while Dillon smoked one of those filthy cigarettes in his house and rammed that big circumcised cock up his ass.
“Why do we have to meet everyone in this shit hole?” Margie asked once again.
Hunter found his chair and sat. “Don’t bullshit me, Margie, the place is growing on you.” He smiled. “I can tell.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said.
“It keeps people from getting their expectations up,” Hunter answered.
“There isn’t any place from here but up,” she complained.
“Exactly.”
‘He smelled manly, muscular, and fucking hot. Hunter wanted him right in the doorway.’
‘Hunter turned and kissed Dillon deeply before he rinsed off. He had never wished for his sight before, but he would have given anything at that moment to be able to turn and witness the beauty of the man that had just made love to him. He'd literally felt the change in Dillon's grip as he made love.’

”...maybe they could get some claustrophobic little room somewhere where they could revel in the shabby garbage scent like feral cats rutting in an alley. Frank/Dillon wasn’t cats in an alley... he was a big cat on the African plain; hard, muscular, grunting...a lion in heat.”
“His arms were polite, not secure, but patient; an endemic quality of his trade, Hunter had guessed. The neck and chest were formal, diligently cut to be candy for the eye, a sweet Hunter could not taste.”
“He had a bruise on his hip that was large and fresh enough that Hunter could feel the still heat of it. His nipples were sensitive and extroverted like his belly button, a gregarious, fun-loving bit of flesh whose purpose on Frank/Dillon seemed wholly deceitful. His legs seemed disbelieving of the entire charade and his feet were down-right pissed off, heckling at Hunter’s hands as they passed.”
“The ears were energetic and elliptical, resonating with some harsh judgment of youth that had warped them from their previously gullible stature.”
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