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330 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 12, 2015








While I waited for Rex to do his business—and for a dog of very little bravery, he was certainly taking his sweet time about it—I gazed up at the heavens. The night sky seemed so close I felt I could reach up and pluck the stars from it as easily as picking raisins from a scone. Smog did not exist here. Only clear mountain air. And silence. Blessed, blessed silence. After twenty years as a working writer, Los Angeles was finally wearing me down. Too many people. Too many bars. Too much sickness. I had had my fill of Starbucks’s latte. I was ready to get back to basics. Suddenly, Sanka sounded pretty good.
Christ, Jim! Your weirdass spin on life, and all the supernatural crap you expound on in your books, is rubbing off on me!”
I gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re seeing dead people. That’s all it is.”
Frank scratched his head while staring at me in disbelief. “That’s all it is? I’m sorry, Jim, but I think it’s time you started writing children’s books. Tommy Finds a Grasshopper. Shit like that because, frankly, I think your horror stuff has dribbled off the page and splattered all over me, and I can’t say I’m real happy about it.”
Lyle gave him a quick hug. “Calm down, Frank. All we have to do is destroy the dead serial killer, free the dead boys, try not to get killed in the process, and then we’ll be out of here. I’ll give you a back rub when it’s over.”
Frank stared at his lover of twelve years as if he had never seen him before in his life. “Great. Jim’s infected you too.”
Jesse turned to Stu. “Does this pith helmet make me look fat?”
“No, love. You look yummy. Very butch.”
“Oh, goody.”
Frank cast his eyes around at each of us, wondering, perhaps, when he had lost the ability and the common sense to seek out normal friendships.
“Ready to proceed?” Michael asked, as if the last two minutes had never happened.
Frank shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Far be it from me to stem the tide of lunacy.” He turned to Lyle. “I expect a long back rub.”
“You got it. With a little anal tongue tickling thrown in for good measure. How’s that?”
“Sounds good. Sounds fair.”
“Sure does,” Jesse said, looking like he meant it.
Stu giggled.
Michael offered me a wink as if to say the mutinous crew had been brought back into line so on to business.