Terrell Washington's childhood was a trifecta of suck: being black, gay, and poor in America has no upside. Terrell climbed his way out of the hood only to hit a glass ceiling and stop, frozen, a chain restaurant bartender with a journalism degree. His one bright spot is Colby Meyers, a coworker who has no fear, no inhibitions, and sees no boundaries. Terrell and Colby spend their summers at the river and their breaks on the back dock of Papiano's. As terrified as Terrell is of coming out, he's helpless to stay away from Colby's magnetic smile and contagious laughter.
But Colby is out of college now, and he has grand plans for the future - plans Terrell is sure will leave his scrawny black ass in the Sacramento dust until a breathless moment stolen from the chaos of the restaurant tells Terrell he might be wrong. When the moment is shattered by a mystery and an act of violence, Terrell and Colby are left with two puzzles: who killed their scumbag manager, and how to fit their own lives - the black and the white of them - into a single shining tomorrow.
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Another Amy Lane winner
Different than any Amy Lane book, she took a chance on an interracial relationship and I think she succeeded!
different than your normal m/m formula
He did a great job with the voices, true entertainment, not just reading!
Amy always writes outside the box! great audio and book!
- Kindle Customer "T.Henry"
Half ass, lazy, irresponsible
Helen Keller, as she is today.
She could have made an effort to meet a black person before attempting to create a realistic impression of one in this story.
Maybe, and by 'maybe' I mean not a chance. His rendition of the stereotypical "black dude" was ridiculous the say the least, but in his defense, the garbage he was tasked to read left him very few options, "white boy."
Anger, disappointment, nausea, diarrhea.
Note to the author: Do your homework next time before attempting to create an effective impression of an ethnicity you are not familiar with. This cannot be accomplished by simply collecting all the stereotypes in your limited repertoire and expecting free thinking, intelligent people to buy it. Not every black man is named Terrell Williams or Tyrone Washington or Marcus Jenkins, or Willie Johnson. Despite what you saw on TV in the 70s, they don't often address their Caucasian mates as "white boy," and most of them love and prefer being black, find it beautiful, and would not choose to be anything else, even if given the opportunity. They also certainly do not all secretly pine for the charity and pity of "white boy" with the chocolate fetish. This book was a miserably lazy, outright ignorant, offensive failure--the worst of all 40+ I have finished in the past several months. Read at your own risk. Can't say you have not been warned.Enjoy!!!