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310 pages, Paperback
First published October 28, 2012


"The painter said Silvio made him consider giving up painting. He struggled capturing Silvio's soul. That is maybe because he doesn't have one."



"What else is there to me?"
"Your bravery and your loyalty, your passion for the moment."Gianbattista's voice wrapped him in love and grace and safety when all those were tenuous and illusionary. He didn't often like to be fooled or played, but with Battista it didn't matter what was real or fake.
I don't care as long as you love me.







"Into your darkest corner, you are safe in my love, you are protected." - Agapi Stassinopoulos
Ask me again when you're inside me, and I might even whisper the truth.
If he'd been able to, he'd have washed the traces of every touch away. Carved all hurt, pain, resentment, disappointment, and failure out of his soul and burned it.


"In that pale face lurked the blackest, darkest eyes Stefano had ever seen, and lips like they'd been cut with a knife blades, perfect, sharp, and deadly."
"He didn't speak with a lisp or wave his hands
around in a limp-wristed kind of way.
But something about him exuded sex like a cat in heat.
Knowing, tempting eyes that sucked all the light
from the room. Centers of gravity."
No more like a siren or succubus, as deadly
as he was tempting.
He grabbed Silvio by the neck, and although even that hurt
and Silvio could have easily freed himself,
Silvio complied and bent frown, close enough that he felt the heat from Stefano's breath through his pajamas. "How long have you wanted this?"
"Ever since that night I saw you."
Silvio's lips parted. "Yeah, I'm into that, too,"
he whispered.
"Strangling?"
"Control. All kinds of control." And there was a plea in his eyes.
Control me.
"Tell me to leave."
The barracuda's closing in for the kill.
"I wouldn't mean it." Stefano opened the shower door further...