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Sonny Hassell

Santino Hassell was raised by a conservative family but grew up to be a smart-mouthed, school cutting grunge kid, a transient twenty-something, and eventually transformed into a grumpy introvert and unlikely romance author with an affinity for baseball caps. His novels are heavily influenced by the gritty, urban landscape of New York City, and his desire to write relationships fueled by intensity and passion.

He’s been a finalist in both the Bisexual Book Awards and the EPIC Awards, and was nominated for a prestigious RITA award in 2017. His work has been featured in BuzzFeed, Huffington Post, Washington Post, RT Magazine, and Cosmopolitan Magazine.

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“All that mattered was that Boyd was there. He was there for Sin, and when Sin opened his eyes to look at Boyd once more, Sin ignored all the self-doubt and paranoia. Because at that moment he somehow knew that Boyd always would be.”
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“They were best friends and partners who'd finally gotten over all the bullshit and had come to terms with the mutual attraction, deciding that fucking was better than always being so tense about it. That was the end of the story.”
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“I wasn't afraid of you!' Ryan protested. 'I was half intimidated, half infatuated, and I didn't know how to act because of it.'Sin made a face at Ryan and picked up his chips again. 'How could you be infatuated with me when you didn't even know me?'Ryan scoffed and pointed his cheese-covered fork at Sin. 'You're gorgeous and tragic—gay boys like that kind of thing.”
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“He loved him enough to want to die for hurting him, loved him enough to kill himself slowly for fear of losing him, loved him enough to suffer silently if he thought it was in Boyd's interest. Sin loved Boyd enough to make difficult decisions easily, as if there were no contest; he went toward Boyd as if he hadn't even considered any other choices.”
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“He'd more than achieved his goal; as usual Boyd had the ability to completely blow his mind. If insanity had a temporary cure, its name would be Boyd's Blowjob. He could open his own store full of home remedies; it'd give the term 'Head Shop' a whole new meaning.”
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“I am not a birch.”
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“When they were partially up the stairs and mostly out of earshot, Sin looked at Boyd again. 'Don't get killed or I'll be very annoyed with you.”
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“His voice wavered and he looked down abruptly, at last making some vain effort to hide the shameful tears that tracked down his cheeks even as he continued to pin Boyd against the wall. 'I wish I could hate you. God, I wish I could fucking kill you for doing this to me. Why couldn't you just leave me alone if it was going to be this way?”
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“What am I, your wife?' Boyd asked him, highly amused.Sin seemed to consider that for a moment. 'You would need to exchange bodies with my new boss for that. You can be my slave instead.'Boyd could not help a startled laugh at that. 'I don't know if I like the idea of being your slave,' he informed him with one eyebrow arched in challenge. 'The very nature of that relationship would imply I get no compensation and I just can't agree to that.''You get to be in my presence. That should be sufficient compensation.”
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“Sin stared at him as he chewed, cream smeared across his mouth and smudged on the other side of it. It shouldn't have been possible to glare and eat like a child at the same time, but somehow Sin pulled it off.”
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“He'd lost the only part of his life that made it worth living because of a couple random fucks. How ridiculous.”
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“It doesn't change that I still want him, I still want to be with him, I still feel like the fucking air has been sucked out of the room when he walks in and I still think about him all the time.”
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