John Inman
A Lambda Literary Award finalist and the author of over forty novels, John has been writing fiction for as long as he can remember. Born on a small farm in Indiana, he now resides in San Diego, California where he spends his time gardening, pampering his pets, hiking and biking the trails and canyons of San Diego, and of course, writing. He and his partner share a passion for theater, books, film, and the continuing fight for marriage equality. If you would like to know more about John, check out his website at----
http://www.johninmanauthor.com/John_I... or follow him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/john.inman.79
“In the cool of evening, in the silent shadowy barn, as we lay watching the sun ducking behind the treetops in the distance, I could hear my heart beating out the rhythm of my love for Frank. And when I rested my head against Frank’s warm chest, I could hear his heart beating out the same sweet song for me.”
John Inman
“He lifted my foot and placed a kiss on the tip of my big toe. That toe had never been kissed in its life. I wondered if it was smart enough to know what had just happened. Would it lord it over the other toes now that it had been singled out and kissed by Frank Wells, or was it just a fucking toe and didn’t know what the hell was going on? Like me.”
John Inman
“One lone butterfly flapped his wings somewhere in the vicinity of my spleen. He was probably a scout. No doubt six million other butterflies were hot on his heels, if butterflies even have heels.”
John Inman
“I love to read, but I'm not a reviewer. I'll leave the reviewing to someone else. Suffice it to say, if I'm reading your book, I'm loving it.”
John Inman