Цитаты из книг — Don Allmon

Austin was an elf on the heroic side of elves, beautiful as fuck, and the kind of vain prick you’d expect to cause a world war, some cross between Fëanor and Helen of Troy.

“You two ain’t cannibals, are you?” He glanced at the bike. “No, y’ain’t. You got bullet holes in your bike.” As if bullet holes were proof of a socially acceptable diet.

Shaggy slipped on Comet’s jacket, and despite it all, fucking God, what a difference a jacket could make. The jacket was a deep-sea blue with yellow trim. Shaggy’s hair hung just over the collar. It gave him an edgy look he hadn’t had before. Cleaned him up some ways. Dirtied him down, others.

Buzz gave himself a congratulatory blowjob. It was virtual. He wasn’t hung like that, or flexible like that. It was a simstim he’d made when he’d been terribly high and wanted to know if he was any good at blowjobs. (He’d always thought he was, but who ever thought they weren’t?)

“The kid knows who I am, doesn’t she? She knows who you are. She know everything?” “Yeah. Not every last detail. Enough. She knows what we’ve done.” And JT didn’t say sex or thieving or killing, so Austin assumed he meant all of the above.

Roan found the blue unicorn when we were kids. She wouldn’t let me touch it. She said only a virgin could touch a unicorn, and I wasn’t a virgin. That was bullshit, because everyone knows blowjobs don’t count.

And “history”? Seriously, Buzz and JT had “history”? Well what about Austin and JT? They had history. A lot more fucking history than some kiss that went bad. Austin and JT, they had whole years that went bad.

He’d barely even moved, but Buzz honestly flinched like JT was on the attack, and shouted, “Keep away from me, you cannibal!” The plasma in Victor the Wizard’s hand snapped in warning. That worked JT’s nerves. “It’s not cannibalism if you ain’t the same species, Buzz. It’s just dinner.”

So, yeah, what had he expected when he showed up two years out of nowhere? Had he really expected JT to drop his jeans right there and bend over ready for him? Well, yeah. Kinda, he had.

Dante had been right, and JT couldn’t risk getting tied up with Austin again. JT had to draw a line, and that line was at his bedroom door.

The seat molded to JT’s broader frame and shorter legs, and still the cabin was a bit cramped. Had he been any bigger, he wouldn’t have fit. They never sized the nice cars for orc bodies. Orcs never got anything nice.

They both turned away simultaneously, like they were reverse images of each other—an expression of frustration one had learned from the other, and who could say which one had done it first?