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262 pages, Paperback
First published September 14, 2016

“The Beemer is custom—maple burl wood, full-grain leather—but I don’t know what the fuck is happening with all these pills. It’s like an ecstasy factory. I pick one up and put it on my tongue. Peppermint.”
“The bar is called the Last Resort. It looks like a shack outside and smells like Pine Sol inside. It’s surprisingly crowded for a place in the middle of nowhere. I’m almost sure there’s a table of Hells Angels to my right as I walk in. Or ZZ Top impersonators with borderline personality disorders. One of them is carving a pentagram into the table with a knife while the rest of them sit watching and grooming their chest-length beards.”
“The automated hair dryer comes on, blowing on my balls. I’m not gonna lie. It feels fantastic.”


“Barreling down the highway towards Atlanta, exhausted, thirsty and dirty, with my head in my heart and my heart between my legs…”
“‘Learn some respect for women, you motherfucker!’”












