Sable hair bisected his pecs and arrowed down to the straight and unequivocal statement of his returned interest. Forcing my gaze to his face, I said, "I really don't think we have time for that." "You know that, and I know that, but HE doesn't believe it." "Believe it," I told HIM. J.X.'s mouth tugged into one of those heart-stopping smiles. "Maybe you should whisper in his ear.

To find them all in one package...well, perhaps better not to dwell on his package in my fragile state.

Tiffs among the faggots were apparently the stuff of quiet merriment.

I thought I recognized you." Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.

...Jake, a homosexual cop buried so deep in the closet he didn't know where to look for himself.

People loved you in the way they knew how - and often it was not the way you knew. Or needed.

Drink your coffee -- people in Africa are sleeping.