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This audacious exploration into the nature of love is rich in characters, striking scenes and a profound understanding of how alive the past can be.
May, Christine, Heed, Junior, Vidaeven L: all women obsessed with Bill Cosey. The wealthy owner of the famous Coseys Hotel and Resort, he shapes their yearnings for father, husband, lover, guardian, and friend, yearnings that dominate the lives of these women long after his death. Yet while he is either the void in, or the center of, their stories, he himself is driven by secret forcesa troubled past and a spellbinding woman named Celestial.
This audacious exploration into the nature of loveits appetite, its sublime possession, its dreadis rich in characters, striking scenes, and a profound understanding of how alive the past can be.
The day she walked the streets of Silk, a chafing wind kept the temperature low and the sun was helpless to move outdoor thermometers more than a few degrees above freezing. Tiles of ice had formed at the shoreline and, inland, the thrown-together houses on Monarch Street whined like puppies. Ice slick gleamed, then disappeared in the early evening shadow, causing the sidewalks she marched along to undermine even an agile tread, let alone one with a faint limp. She should have bent her head and closed her eyes to slits in that weather, but being a stranger, she stared wide-eyed at each house, searching for the address that matched the one in the advertisement: One Monarch Street. Finally she turned into a driveway where Sandler Gibbons stood in his garage door ripping the seam from a sack of Ice-Off. He remembers the crack of her heels on concrete as she approached; the angle of her hip as she stood there, the melon sun behind her, the garage light in her face. He remembers the ...
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I write to add to the beauty that now belongs to me
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