As far as gay porn goes, this is the leather-clad gatekeeper of the communal m/m garbage dump. Madeleine, Abigail, what did I ever do to you? Did I hurt you in some way? 
 Or did you not try? Did you not try at all? 
 You are drunk, Warrior's Cross. Go home, Warrior's Cross. 
 We have drippy Cameron, who treats his friend Miri like something that might secrete from one of his dogs' behinds (but how would he know? He gets home from a twelve-hour shift at work and doesn't put the dogs out to do their business! The fuck, Cameron?) and behaves like a spoiled, selfish brat...and for some reason, Julian can stand him? 
 What? 
 Julian is an alright character, I guess. He's probably the reason I let this book claw its way out of the one-star hall of fame. But that doesn't mean I like the guy. That doesn't mean I think any effort went into writing him. He's this shady guy, and that's interesting, but then there's this sort of creepy, slimy quality to him that really puts me off. I highly doubt that was intentional, but that's the way I felt as I read his mildly disturbing dialogue. Was it his physical description? I don't know. Just something about him makes me want to boil myself like a pound of pasta. 
 There's one awkward and stilted sex scene before Julian and Cameron hike up the blech factor and start behaving like a married couple from the fifties. Isn't this supposed to be romance? Isn't this supposed to be "smoking hot" or at least "not dogshit"? 
 And seriously, what the fuck is with the dogs? What is with them? What the hell! 
 This book was pretty darn awful, but I guess that's okay. I wasn't expecting Capote, and it cost me like six bucks on my Kobo. But how does that help me? I still spent hours of my life sitting on my backside trying to like this thing. Where did that get me? Where? 
 Yeah, it made me stupider. There you go, ladies and gents. It made me stupider. 
 fin