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470 pages, Paperback
First published January 31, 2017













“Okay, I’m really leaving. I want to ride this wave of moral indignation.”
He grinned then, and I couldn’t help it, I smiled back.”
“What made you happy?” he asked. Once again, I had the impression that he was data-gathering so he could report back to his home planet.
But that was just his way, maybe.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, sliding onto his knees in front of me. “Let’s see if you can answer a few questions. Put your head down and try not to pant, that’s a good girl.” I did, feeling his hand on my shoulder. “That’s it. Nice and slow. What color panties have you got on?”
My head snapped up. “What?”
He pushed my head back down. “Answer the question. Or I could check for you if that would be easier.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask about—hehn—the President?”
“I don’t care about the President’s underwear. What color are yours? Throw me a bone and say a red thong.”
"Kristan often tells stories of loss and does so with verisimilitude. This is in part due, perhaps, to her personal history. Her father was killed by a drunk driver when he was 47 and Kristan was 23. Her mother never remarried and the theme of losing a great love and being afraid to risk such heartbreak again permeates many of Kristan’s books."
"Don't make me wait too long."
"I like that you always seem happy."
I became Nathan's wife. One hundred and two days later, I became his widow.
"Are you crying?"
"Oh...I just...I'm a little, uh premenstrual." Shit.
He gave me a long, unblinking look. Strange pale blue eyes, like an alien. "Will that be a problem during this interview?" he asked.
"Let's hope not. But those first two days can be murder." I smiled. He did not. I felt my uterus shriveling, as if his disapproving gaze was bringing on menopause.
Finally, he blinked. "I'm Jonathan Kent. This way."
Inside the grocery store, it was as cold as a morgue. Poor choice of words.
I couldn't remember what I'd come for, Vegetables? Why not? Whole Foods did have the prettiest produce in the entire world, even if it did cost a million trillion dollars.
I was dying to know what my stick-up-the-colon boss did in his spare time. Taxidermy seemed about right.
I pulled into Kate's driveway, once again doing the walk of shame (though damn proud of it), went into the kitchen and screamed
A very large man was there.
"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"
"Who are you and why are you wearing my sister's shirt?" I yelped..
He smiled. I smiled. The cat smiled.
He had a cat!
"You have a cat!" I said. Maybe shouldn't have had that second glass of wine. Too late now.