Parker S. Huntington

Just as I expected, he turned our home into a library. Every inch of wall space is covered in floor-to-ceiling shelves. The living room. The halls. The theater room. Even his study. My legs carry me from room to room at the speed of light. Though I hurry about it, my eyes don’t miss a thing. How he catalogued everything by genre, by spines, exactly the way I envisioned it. Horror and mystery in the study. Travel and cooking in the kitchen. Romance and erotica in the bedroom

“Tell me, Licht. Were you absent on the day God handed out brain cells?”

In my dreams, there was no beast disguised as a husband.
Most importantly—no heartbreak disguised as marriage.