Less than a year ago, her best friend went missing at the amusement park. Most people would never have entered those grounds again. Riley? She gets a job there. Even before she gets high with a co-worker, weird stuff starts happening. A disembodied voice from a broken pay phone? One in which Tara distinctly does not seem to be having a good time.
Riley has had it with the useless cops and the town that seems like it’s moved on. She’s going to investigate every spook-ass inch of that park if it’s the last thing she does — and it may be.
What happens when police and governments are owned by corporations and owing a debt can be a capital offense?
Patsy has two options to save her mother’s life: pay the debt, which is exorbitant, or become an indentured collections servant time Valor for 5 days, collecting payment or executing debtors — or offering some of them the same choice she’s taken.
Millionaires on paper, proprietresses of meth houses, newlyweds hoping for a better life, her mom, the debtors span all walks of life and she and her dog head off to corral them all. Because in this world, worth doesn’t matter; debt is fatal.
This is a charming light romance about identity, found family and authenticity.
Violet Thistlewaite has made a break with her old life. She’s done with the rampaging and plaguing and inspiring fear whenever she goes. In Dragon’s Rest, she has a chance to be Violet Thistlewaite, florist. The main thing interrupting her new sense of calm is Nathan Marsh, the Apothecary next door.
With his wounded heart and her secrets, is there any hope for them?
This book is a beautiful, sorrowful, queer meditation on death, grief and the life we find in the midst of it. Told from four perspectives, it show. that no one grief belongs to any one person.
As we learn from the blurb, a young mother, Magos, loses her son. He was born with only one lung and that lung carried him through more life than his birth doctors ever expected. Santiago was ten when the lung gave out and Magos immediately grapples with both love and hate for the organ that allowed her son to live but that also put such harsh limits on that life. But it’s from that lung that she ultimately derives comfort and even some degree of closure.
Magos take a piece of lung and holds onto it, not being able to let it go. Not being able to let her son go. Having left her husband behind to his own grief, she returns to Mexico and is confronted with a local piece of folklore that a part of the body kept from the dead can be fed. What it may grow into from that point is a little less clear, but it’s enough to give a grieving mother hope.
This little piece of lung will unite the lives of many people throughout the tale, each taking their turn to voice what this ritual has done to impact their lives.
The final voice is the most moving of all.
What is grief? Is it a way to freedom? Can it keep you caged? Does it keep others trapped with you? This book asks many questions and answers none of them. But it’s a beautiful conundrum.
Quiara writes 