Milos
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Jacob left Eli with more questions than answers when he turned the gun against himself. Now Eli, quiet, docile and transparent, tries to pull back the layers surrounding his boyfriend's sudden death, and the people responsible -- accidentally finding love, losing love, and hiding in the shadows of a murder investigation.
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Prologue At first, there was confusion. Then, there was silence. His mother rubbed him between the shoulders. “Stop that,” he whispered, his own voice barely audible to himself over the ringing in his ears. She withdrew her hand and leaned to the side to look at him, her mascara melting down her cheeks. He shriveled a little more into himself. His mother had gone through the whole song and dance expected at times like these. She started by telling him she loved him more than anything, hug
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Captivating through and through. The peril was subtle until the end, but became very real very fast. Thank you for the great journey.
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Something hive-minded this way... uh... undulates. You had me gripped, despite the short chapters. I am really hoping there is more to this story. It reminds me a bit of Contact -- and I just had a nerdgasm. Thank you.
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"God, I don't want you to leave." Joey leans back and scratches her head, ruffling her mohawk a little. "You're one of the only decent people left around here." I take a drink of this truck stop coffee; it’s mud. “I wish you could come with me.” A crash rips out through the diner as someone in the kitchen drops a stack of dishes. Joey smiles. "Job opening," she says through her teeth. "I'd kill to get the hell outta Havre. This place sucks." "You only have a year left." I try to sound convin
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These things are a little meaner than I remember; this one’s a far cry from that little steer at ‘ol Dawson's. He's a red one named Cinnamon, and it's only the second time I've been on the back of a steer like this for competition. The coaches liked my barebacking so much, they just kept me doing that--telling me I'm more built for broncs than bulls. Fuck 'em all. I tip my hat at the thought and pull the rope tight across my hand; it's time to prove myself. I nod at the gateman. “Pull!” He ya
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The hallway is busier than usual, people coming and going, darting around like a fart in a skillet. I'm searching through my locker for a book I have to return to one of my teachers from last semester, but so far I’ve only managed to find a few candy-bar wrappers, notebook paper, old graded homework assignments, and a Slim-Jim for some reason only God knows why -- I hate the damn things. Brooke leans against the locker next to mine, hugging her Chemistry 2 book. She's taking honors courses; sh
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Being raised by a mom who's a country bumpkin, things like suicide were considered taboo, and survivors were "having an episode." I know a few people in a situation where a friend had attempted suicide, and other parents were scared not only of the consequences, but of what fallout might occur if their kids were to continue a relationship with that person. This is a very common north-western attitude, but one that is starting to subside with better understanding of emotional trauma. There is more to play with that, so stay tuned. It's part of the underpinnings of the tale. Also -- Conrad is a city in rural Montana, near which Lem was pulled over.
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Mattie lies next to me, staring up at the cross-beams on the ceiling in the hay loft. This is one of those places where we used to play when we were little. If you don't mind the occasional mouse, it's not too bad up here. Mattie rolls over and puts his arm over my chest, hooking my leg with his. He must want to roll around in the hay a bit. He gets up on top of me and looks down, pinning my hands above my head. "What're you gonna do?" I smile. "What're you gonna do?" He gets this confused lo
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The days don't get much easier. It's only been a month since Mattie went away, and it’s supposed to be the best time of the year. I guess I'm not much for the holiday spirit anymore. I try to keep my mind and my hands busy, but it always feels like my heart’s been yanked out of my chest. Chase has taken to pitying me, and I just hate it. Every time I look at her, if we catch eyes, she smiles at me like she's trying to let me know she's there, or trying to give me some sort of reassurance. Jaso
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The gymnasium in the high school has that salty smell that most gyms do, but once in a while, someone walks by with a little bucket of popcorn that gets my mouth to watering pretty good. The concessions stand sells pretzels and pickles, too. They do candy, from time to time, if the booster club is trying to make money. My stomach gurgles and reminds me that I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Momma nearly knocks me over with her yelling. “Come on, Chase!” Chase has the ball, dribbling down the court.
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Mattie and me sit on the couch sharing a blanket. It’s not like we're cuddling, since we're sitting right smack next to Ronnie, but Mattie keeps grabbing my hand under the covers; I don't much like the idea of getting caught. Once in a while I'll give him a stare, like to tell him to knock it off. Ronnie stretches out and collapses back on the couch. "Damn it. I need to get up and do something with myself." Mattie looks across me at his brother. "Weren't you and Jenny gonna do something tonigh
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Sam - you have no idea.
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It's too early in the morning for this shit; I've just walked into the barn and Jason's blasting the stereo. He dances up and down the isles while he works from stall to stall. I can hardly make sense of myself or last night. I'm so tired I feel like I'm floating above the ground, dragging the tips of my toes along with me. I had to walk home because I couldn't wake Jeff up. My butt aches, and it's no fun walking home with your ass hurting. I'm feel sad and happy at the same time, because Jeff
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"You look like you've seen a ghost." Mattie holds the door open for me. I walk in, and he closes the door behind me. "Why do you say that?" "Your eyes are dark, like you didn't sleep much." He scratches the side of his head. "Just been a really freakin' weird weekend." "What's wrong?" "Dude, nothing." I hesitate. "What you wanna do tonight?" Like I really have to ask. "I had Ronnie rent some horror movies, if you're up for it. We got the first Saw film." I'm so tired I'll probably fall as
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'Our arena volunteers, down there in the Wrangler shirts, takin' care of business. Looks like the steer there doesn't want to go home. Here kitty, kitty, kitty! Okay, steer's back through the gates. If you look over to the box on the north side of the arena, Stephen Dorsitt's gonna be your header, and Matthew Hedquist is the healer. They came in third place, yesterday. Let's see how they do in the final round.' Mattie's horse makes a full turn behind the box; Mattie pulls back on the reins and
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The bull just jumps up and down a little, but doesn't really turn much. He's a little black and white cow of some sort, and he doesn't really know what to do or how to react to me on his back; he's just trying to get the flank strap off. If he does, he'll probably just stop and stand there, looking around the yard stupidly with me sitting on his back and moo at his own bad luck. This seems easier than riding a bronc. At least a horse is going to put something into it. This training bull is bori
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A cuckoo clock chimes six times. Mattie moans and rolls over. I've been staring at a velvet painting on the wall for the better part of an hour. It's a mountain lion drinking from a small crick; very tacky. I'm tired, dizzy, and I have a horrible headache. I also have cotton mouth something awful. Suddenly, I smell coffee. I feel adventurous enough to get out of my sleeping bag, quiet as I can, and head for the bathroom to take a piss. While I'm there, I take a farmer's blow in the toilet to
