I don't do farm animals. Can't stand hay in your leathers? Or wool in my teeth.

Unfortunately, beer was only a short-term answer. And head transplants had yet to be approved by the FDA.

He [Vishous] was all need, no ease.

Well, duh. He was six feet, six inches tall and built like a brick shithouse.

In the oh-my-God-this-has-to-be-Christmas silence that followed, he struggled to reorder the last six months, to catch up with this reality they'd somehow missed. He wanted her. She wanted him. Was it true?

That scent she threw off was not anything by Chanel. Unless they’d recently added a Tragedy line.

Blay said yet again, that old, familiar voice cutting through all of those years of rejection and judgment, giving him not just a rope of acceptance to hang on to, but a flesh-and-blood hand to lead him out of the darkness of his past... And into a future that didn't require lies or excuses, because what he was, and what they were, was both extraordinary-and not hing out of the ordinary. Love, after all, was universal.