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L’agent spécial Ryan « Mac » McGuinness a une rude semaine en perspective. Il a non seulement commencé un nouveau régime, mais il a également reçu l’ordre de garder Henry Page – le témoin le plus agaçant au monde – en vie. Ce qui risque d’être difficile car Mac lui-même est à deux doigts de le tuer de ses propres mains, lui et ses citations de Shakespeare, son éthique douteuse, et son obsession des œufs... à moins qu’il n’ait pas vraiment envie de le tuer.
Escroc de son état, Henry Page préfère garder ses distances avec la justice... même s’il aimerait bien se rapprocher un peu plus de son protecteur collet monté et beau gosse, l’agent McGuinness. En tant que seul témoin d’un meurtre orchestré par la pègre, Henry est devenu un atout majeur pour le FBI. Mais il a son propre objectif, et cela n’inclut pas de passer devant un tribunal.
Lorsque la preuve de l’existence d’une taupe au sein du Bureau fait surface, Mac et Henry n’ont d’autre choix que de se planquer. Coincés dans une cabane de pêche, ils sont surpris de découvrir que leurs sentiments l’un pour l’autre vont bien plus loin qu’une attirance physique. Mais avec la mafia qui se rapproche inexorablement, Henry n’a plus d’autre choix que de s’enfuir. Et Mac va devoir décider jusqu’où il est prêt à aller pour garder Henry à ses côtés.
250 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 27, 2014


“I know what I’m not good at.”
“Let’s start there. What aren’t you good at? Besides running.”
Mac opened his mouth. “Running?”
“Yeah. You run with your arms kind of flapping.”
Was this little shit seriously criticizing the way he ran? “May I remind you that when you saw me, I was running after the guy who’d just tried to kill you.”
“And maybe you’d’ve caught him if your arms weren’t flapping.”

“It would probably be more miraculous if I had a sugar hit,” Henry suggested.
“Is that so? Are you planning on blowing my budget on junk food?”
“Sugar is good for shock,” Henry told him. “That’s why in old movies, if somebody is in shock, they always give them a very sweet, milky tea. If it’s a woman, they slap her too, but that’s probably not medically recommended.”
“Let’s start there. What aren’t you good at? Besides running.”
Mac opened his mouth. “Running?”
“Yeah. You run with your arms kind of flapping.”
Was the little shit seriously criticizing the way he ran? “May I remind you that when you saw me, I was running after the guy who’d just tried to kill you.”
“And maybe you’d’ve caught him if your arms weren’t flapping.”
"You know what you should try?" Henry tossed a couple of candies into his mouth.I applaud Mac's patience, because if Henry had tried that conversational topic with me he would've found himself on the ground with all his candy missing. Fucking quinoa, my ass.
"No advice necessary."
"Quinoa."
"Please."
"Have you ever had it?"
"What?"
"Quinoa."
Mac sighed. "No."
"It's good. It's a pseudocereal."
"That means nothing to me."
"All the grains look like little sperms when you cook them."
[....]
"Good," Mac said. "Because I want to feel like I'm eating little sperm. The only thing that could make this god-awful diet better is if it included something that looked like sperm."
“So you have trouble believing people would want to protect one another, but you’re willing to risk your life to protect some abstract idea of ‘humanity’?”
Then there is the snark layer and the humour layer which were entertaining. Then the other softer, more apt to hurt layers who wrapped themselves at my softer bits and tugged away. Shakespeare the master of the humorous snark which zings home truths right to the heart is another such layer which Henry and Rock enjoy playing with here.
I don't especially enjoy peeling onions but I enjoyed starting to peel Henry and Mac and I want to continue peeling the next installment soonest.
Fuck you. I have donuts and you don't, nah nah nah.




