“You’re pretty, Isaiah.”
This one tore me up.
Can your past ever be left behind?
Can your demons pull you into darkness?
Can your past be what leads you to happiness?
How can you find love from tragedy?
What is true family?
Can it be that your past is the reason for your future?
Do you believe in fate?
What is love?
Just a few thoughts that have raced through my mind after completing this quite remarkable but gut wrenching book. Kinda my cup of tea. But wow...this one dove into some topics that phew...left me impacted to say the least.
Now so far this is my second by Brandon Witt. He definitely knows how to get you emotionally connected to his characters. To make you feel. To make you loathe. To make you understand and mostly to make you love the relationships that form between his characters.
Every character had such meaning and were beautifully developed. This wasn't just the love of Ben and Isaiah but the love of a cast of characters known as Family...just not your conventional one.
Thankfully there are some quite humorous parts that help offset the heartbreak and painful pasts told here. And while one scene pushed a real limit with me...I understood the despiration.
Now Brandon...I do wish the photo booth pictures had reappeared at the end. I only wish I could have these quite lickable images in this review. ❤️❤️❤️
A beautiful book that requires plenty of Kleenex.
A fabulous BR with Elsbeth.
Oh my. What a start...better stock up on Kleenex.
THERE’S NOTHING like a drag queen and two gorgeous men in Speedos to make your worries disappear.
Oh my god.
I dreamed. There were screams in my dreams. Cries. Curses. Ugly words. And blue eyes. Those didn’t fade, even when the dreams did. They were with me for five days, and they whispered that I was pretty. I know that eyes are not supposed to be able to whisper, but they do.
Gawd awful nightmares. :-(
Did not see this coming at all. :-(
I thought I’d seen it before, but her expression let me know that I hadn’t. This was what hate looked like.
When the front door opened, revealing two smiling faces, my heart sank.
The couple looked like they could head up a Tea Party rally. In their late forties, early fifties. Both blond. Both white as Pottery Barn. Both in sweater vests.
Yeah, you heard me. Sweater vests. There weren’t enough hallucinogens in the world to make those fuckers anything but what they were.
Oh fuck. *giggles*
I think I need to throw up.