“In the evenings, Sam performs exercises to prepare his body for love-making with Franz. He practices kissing (something he’d once hated) by smooching deer lips, antelope ears, frog anuses, and the great, whiskered muzzles of sleeping bison. He improves his petting skills by necking with juniper bushes and pine tree trunks with such passion that the bark snaps and sap runs, or with such tenderness that the whole forest goes silent and swallows nest in his hair.”
The story delves into the protagonist's journey as they navigate their personal and ancestral connections, uncovering the layers of their heritage and the impact of their family's past on their own identity. more
Barry Webster, born in 1961, is an accomplished writer whose works span various literary genres, including novels, poetry, and drama. He is known for his unique narrative style and profound insights into social issues. more
“...I think I might die if I don't kiss you right now. A real-life kiss.”
“A kind of childlike purity to her repose that made the thought of kissing her seem vile.”
“He kisses like a poet. Like he's writing poems on my lips.”
“I've come to realize that love is tragic, somewhere down the line it's inevitable. Fight for it.”