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I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.

Josh Lanyon

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Josh Lanyon
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Rachel delivered it like an official pronouncement. Like she was one of the fairies gifting Sleeping Beauty's christening: Beauty. Intelligence. Heterosexual.
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I dug out the powder blue cashmere cardigan my mother Lisa gave me the Christmas before last, pulled on my oldest, softest Levi’s. Comfort clothes the next best thing to a hug from a warm, living body. Lately there had been a shortage of hugs in my life. Lately there had been a shortage of warm, living bodies.
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One thing I’ve noticed about getting older, it takes twice as much work to get half the results one formerly achieved by falling out of bed.
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I’m never wrong? Who besides Republican presidents and evil masterminds can say that with a straight face?
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I’m not going to let go of you. I’m going to hold you all night. So go ahead and feel whatever you feel. If you’re still craving cocaine, go ahead. You’re safe. You can crave it all you want, but I won’t let go, and if you still feel like you can’t trust yourself in the morning, and it’s what you want, I’ll drive you to rehab myself. Okay? ~ Max
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I know you've all heard the advice, Show, don't tell. The best writers don't tell you, and quite frankly they don't just show you -- they make you feel it, live it, taste it, touch it. Storytelling is about being in the moment with the characters.
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Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.
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The only thing worse than opera is someone who hums along with opera.
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I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?
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Drink your coffee -- people in Africa are sleeping.
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Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.
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I know that asshole you were with in college --” “Can we leave that asshole out of it?” Please, gentlemen, one asshole at a time.
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You don't look so hot, Adrien. Yeah, well I'm having a bad heart day. His upper lip curled in a semblance of a smile. Tell me about it.
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Shrugging out of the damaged shirt, Jake said roughly, “I still dream about you.” “I have nightmares about you.” I dragged my T-shirt over my head, threw it aside.
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I liked you the first time I saw you. You were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and you looked up when I opened the door and smiled right at me. It felt like you had been waiting for me, like you were welcoming me home.
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The problem with a life spent reading is you know too much.
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Like true philosophers I've come to believe that religion is an illusion of childhood, outgrown after proper education.
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How did people get over this? They obviously did. Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on to the next picnic table.
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The battle rages eternal, though the race, religion, gender or sexual orientation of those discriminated against changes regularly. Maybe man’s need for a scapegoat is genetically programmed into him.
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I'm not insane. This is very simple, very straightforward. Provided he doesn't kill me, its foolproof.
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