It's angsty and emotional. Deep-cutting and visceral. Some of the lines in her book will make you stop and reread them, just because they touch a part of your soul. They say that when a character shares similar traits as yourself, you feel more connected to the story and I have to say that's true. There's a certain character in here that I felt akin to. I could feel the struggle of having pain and burying it deep deep inside of yourself so you can avoid that kind of pain again. It's palpable and doesn't alway feel good when you recognize someone has taken this trait of yours and placed it on ink and paper.
- Jade Eby, author of The Right Kind of Wrong, Back to Bad series, and Whiskey and a Gun.
“In here,” he said, pushing on the skin above my heart, “you're ten below zero. And you’re closer to death than I am.”
My name is Parker. My body is marked with scars from an attack I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember. I choose to live my life by observation, not through experience. While people are laughing and kissing and connecting, I’m in the corner. Watching them live. I’m indifferent to everything, everyone. The only emotion I feel with any kind of depth is annoyance, and I feel it often.
A text message sent to the wrong number proves to be my undoing.
His name is Everett, but I call him rude. He’s pushy, he’s arrogant, he crowds my personal space, and worst of all: he makes me feel.
He chooses to wear all black, all the time, as if he’s waiting to attend a funeral. Probably because he is.
Everett is dying. And he’s spending his final days living, truly living. In doing so, he’s forcing me to feel, to heal. To come face to face with the demons I suppressed in my memory.
He hurts me, he fulfills me, he completes me. And still, he's dying.