Can you live a lie? It’s a ghost town, this place that haunts me, the one that made me. It’s clear to me that I’ll never outgrow Triple Falls or outlive the time I spent here. I can still feel them all, my boys of summer. Even when I’d sensed the danger, I gave in. I didn’t heed a single warning. I let my sickness, my love, both rule and ruin me. I played my part, eyes wide open, tempting fate until it delivered. There was never going to be an escape. All of us are to blame for what happened. All of us serving our own sentences. We were careless and reckless, thinking our youth made us indestructible, exempt from our sins, and it cost us all. I’m done pretending I didn’t leave the largest part of me between these hills and valleys, between the sea of trees that hold my secrets. It’s the reason I’m back. To make peace with my fate. And if I can’t grieve enough to cure myself in my time here, I’ll remain sick. That will be my curse. But it’s time to confess, to myself more so than any other, that I’d hindered my chances because of the way I was built, and because of the men who built me. At this point, I just want to make peace with who I am, no matter what ending I get. Because I can no longer live a lie.

An alternative cover edition for this ISBN can be found here. A Black father. A white father. Two murdered sons. A quest for vengeance.Ike Randolph has been out of jail for fifteen years, with not so much as a speeding ticket in all that time. But a Black man with cops at the door knows to be afraid.The last thing he expects to hear is that his son Isiah has been murdered, along with Isiah’s white husband, Derek. Ike had never fully accepted his son but is devastated by his loss. Derek’s father Buddy Lee was almost as ashamed of Derek for being gay as Derek was ashamed his father was a criminal. Buddy Lee still has contacts in the underworld, though, and he wants to know who killed his boy.Ike and Buddy Lee, two ex-cons with little else in common other than a criminal past and a love for their dead sons, band together in their desperate desire for revenge. In their quest to do better for their sons in death than they did in life, hardened men Ike and Buddy Lee will confront their own prejudices about their sons and each other, as they rain down vengeance upon those who hurt their boys.Provocative and fast-paced, S.A. Cosby's Razorblade Tears is a story of bloody retribution, heartfelt change - and maybe even redemption.

Can you live a lie? It’s a ghost town, this place that haunts me, the one that made me. It’s clear to me that I’ll never outgrow Triple Falls or outlive the time I spent here. I can still feel them all, my boys of summer. Even when I’d sensed the danger, I gave in. I didn’t heed a single warning. I let my sickness, my love, both rule and ruin me. I played my part, eyes wide open, tempting fate until it delivered. There was never going to be an escape. All of us are to blame for what happened. All of us serving our own sentences. We were careless and reckless, thinking our youth made us indestructible, exempt from our sins, and it cost us all. I’m done pretending I didn’t leave the largest part of me between these hills and valleys, between the sea of trees that hold my secrets. It’s the reason I’m back. To make peace with my fate. And if I can’t grieve enough to cure myself in my time here, I’ll remain sick. That will be my curse. But it’s time to confess, to myself more so than any other, that I’d hindered my chances because of the way I was built, and because of the men who built me. At this point, I just want to make peace with who I am, no matter what ending I get. Because I can no longer live a lie.

Can you keep a secret? ⁣ I grew up sick.⁣ ⁣ Let me clarify.⁣ ⁣ I grew up believing that real love stories include a martyr or demand great sacrifice to be worthy.⁣ ⁣ Because of that, I believed it, because I made myself believe it, and I bred the most masochistic of romantic hearts, which resulted in my illness.⁣ ⁣ When I lived this story, my own twisted fairy tale, it was unbeknownst to me at the time because I was young and naïve. I gave into temptation and fed the beating beast, which grew thirstier with every slash, every strike, every blow.⁣ ⁣ Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ ⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ ⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ ⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence due to my illness.⁣ ⁣ And all were punished.

Can you keep a secret? ⁣ I grew up sick.⁣ ⁣ Let me clarify.⁣ ⁣ I grew up believing that real love stories include a martyr or demand great sacrifice to be worthy.⁣ ⁣ Because of that, I believed it, because I made myself believe it, and I bred the most masochistic of romantic hearts, which resulted in my illness.⁣ ⁣ When I lived this story, my own twisted fairy tale, it was unbeknownst to me at the time because I was young and naïve. I gave into temptation and fed the beating beast, which grew thirstier with every slash, every strike, every blow.⁣ ⁣ Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ ⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ ⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ ⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence due to my illness.⁣ ⁣ And all were punished.

Can you keep a secret? ⁣ I grew up sick.⁣ ⁣ Let me clarify.⁣ ⁣ I grew up believing that real love stories include a martyr or demand great sacrifice to be worthy.⁣ ⁣ Because of that, I believed it, because I made myself believe it, and I bred the most masochistic of romantic hearts, which resulted in my illness.⁣ ⁣ When I lived this story, my own twisted fairy tale, it was unbeknownst to me at the time because I was young and naïve. I gave into temptation and fed the beating beast, which grew thirstier with every slash, every strike, every blow.⁣ ⁣ Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ ⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ ⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ ⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence due to my illness.⁣ ⁣ And all were punished.

It is 5:30 am on Clio's forty-fifth birthday and her hated ex is lying dead on her doorstep. Even worse, this is no accident. Someone’s killed him... When single mum Clio ’s ex Gary turns up dead on the doorstep of her caravan – the one she’s been forced to live in ever since he stole every penny she had – there’s only one suspect. Her. What’s more, she doesn’t remember much about the night he was killed – not just because of the forgetfulness that’s been plaguing her along with the hot flushes – but because she definitely had one too many cocktails with her two best friends Amber and Jeanie . Clio does remember them talking about how much they all hated him though. And, in the frame for murder, she has to ask herself – if she didn’t kill Gary, who did? One of his many enemies? Or someone a little closer to home? And can she and her friends find the real killer before it’s too late? Unputdownable mystery set on the English coast – perfect for fans of The Thursday Murder Club , Bad Sisters, and How to Kill Your Family.

A missing child. A desperate mother. And a house full of secrets.Two years ago, Julia lost her family in a tragic accident. Her husband drowned trying to save their daughter, Lily, in the river near their rural home. But the little girl’s body was never found—and Julia believes Lily is somehow still alive.Alone and broke, Julia opens her house as a writers’ retreat. One of the first guests is Lucas, a horror novelist, who becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to Lily. But within days of his arrival, the peace of the retreat is shattered by a series of eerie events.When Lucas’s investigation leads him and Julia into the woods, they discover a dark secret—a secret that someone will do anything to protect…What really happened that day by the river? Why was Lily never found? And who, or what, is haunting the retreat?

Everyone in my family has killed someone. Some of us, the high achievers, have killed more than once. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but it is the truth. Some of us are good, others are bad, and some just unfortunate. I'm Ernest Cunningham. Call me Ern or Ernie. I wish I'd killed whoever decided our family reunion should be at a ski resort, but it's a little more complicated than that. Have I killed someone? Yes. I have. Who was it? Let's get started. EVERYONE IN MY FAMILY HAS KILLED SOMEONE My brother My stepsister My wife My father My mother My sister-in-law My uncle My stepfather My aunt Me