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272 pages, Hardcover
First published April 28, 2015
“Why is it always a blonde?”
“Simone, like most New Yorkers, thought all religions were crap, and Boro-Baptism was just the latest name for a generations-old addiction to fear and an overwhelming hope that someone could save you.”
“’Pleased to meet you, Pastor Sorenson,’ Simone said,
extending
her hand in what she hoped was a confident way. He
shook it.
His hands were rough and dry.
‘Thank you for letting us do this,’ deCostas said, also
shaking
his hand.”
“She had the shot. It was lined up. She just needed to wait for the fog to clear. And it was going to clear in a moment. She could read the swirls of it, how it breathed and parted. New York City was lazy, like cigarette smoke.”
"Are you asking me along to watch you interrogate someone I'm angry at in an attempt to repair our friendship?"
"That is exactly what I'm doing."
"Will you let me hit her?"
"If the opportunity presents itself."
Simone tossed what was left of her cigarette into the ocean. It cartwheeled into the water, one end leaving a trail of sparks like blood spatter.