What would you conceal from the one you loved? What would you reveal? Patrick and Lee discover love in the unlikeliest of places, when they meet after a friend's funeral. Patrick only has anonymous sex with faceless men, whilst Lee has learnt that pleasing others is the only way to survive.... show more
What would you conceal from the one you loved? What would you reveal? Patrick and Lee discover love in the unlikeliest of places, when they meet after a friend's funeral. Patrick only has anonymous sex with faceless men, whilst Lee has learnt that pleasing others is the only way to survive. Despite having a supernatural ability to move into solid rock, Lee's life has been full of violence and neglect. Lee secretly lives in a cemetery, keeping a watchful eye on the mourners who feel that they cannot go on without their loved ones.Both Patrick and Lee have hidden a part of themselves from the world, but together, they discover a passion that neither had ever thought possible. Their love leads them from the heart London to the edge of Britain. On their journey they are able to uncover the secrets of Lee's ability, and his concealed family who live in the shadows of the rugged Atlantic coast. As an extra, this edition also contains the first chapter of an alternate version of The Concealed Man.***Excerpt:After an hour, I still wasn't half as drunk as I would haveliked, so I went up to the bar to fetch more beer. I nodded with recognition as I saw a collegefriend of mine working behind the bar.Aidan smiled back at me -- his gaze lingered as he pushed the tallglasses of foaming brew towards me."I heard about Tommy.This one's on the house," he said softly. "Let's give him a good send off."I saw Aidan a little while later as I stood staring at myreflection in the scratched mirror of the men's restroom. He said nothing as he walked slowly behindme. His hands were solid on my shoulder,as he pulled me gently back to one of the vacant stalls. When the door shut behind us, I was ready forwhatever would happen next.I don't usually like doing this with people I know. I never want to form any kind of connection,when I did whatever the hell it was I was doing. I don't have a name for it. I hate that old-fashioned, old English word'cottaging' -- it sounds grubby, dirty, something that sad old blokes did whenthey were desperate. I wasn't desperatebut I just needed this every now and then.