The cold, hard slap of pavement against the bare soles of my feet.  The crisp, winter desert air biting through the sweat caking my face, neck, arms, playing with the salty-coated curls of my hairy legs, whipping up garbage to dance around me like evil fairies.

Stepping into an underpass, buried beneath the earth for a moment, staring into the black liquid, oil and water coalescing in a pool of perfect darkness, promising the fingers and nails of the living dead to crawl out if I only waited long enough.  But my mind was elsewhere, up the mountain, climbing into the sunrise that I knew was not long in coming.  I had to make it there, had to make it in time to fly my own personal flag of freedom from the highest point I could reach.

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…”this book did introduce me to one of the best uses for the book Fifty Shades Darker.”

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