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355 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 14, 2012
“Human beings don't always fit into a perfect box the way you want them to.”
“Who would have thought that a drag queen could be my ultimate male fantasy?”
“With this strangely beautiful man in my life, I have a feeling it will never be the same again.”
“You're so pretty Viv, it's not fair. How can you be pretty and handsome?” ~ Freda
“I like to be a man in the bedroom, but a woman on the stage.” ~ Nicholas
“He is such a complex creature, but I'm coming to think that his complexity is what I love about him.”
He looks like a really hot woman. It's unsettling, but also titillating.
“If I was into girls, I'd do you.”
“Psst, I'll let you in on a secret Fred… I actually have a cock. Don't tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation. But feel free to do me any time you want.”
“But I want all of him. Not just the sex. I want his smiles and his teasing, his smouldering looks. His sad eyes when he thinks nobody's watching. Most of all, I want his heart.”
“You'll always be my friend, won't you Fred? Don't let me fuck this up. I need you in my life now. I need the golden eyed girl who can make me smile.
“I love you Freda... It feels like nobody in the history of the world has loved another person as much as I love you. I love you so much it hurts. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me burn.”
He was eight years old when his obsession began.
His beautiful secret, the one that had brought him so much joy, would never be a happy, childish thing again.
I'm the picture of a modern woman who doesn't own a car and doesn't possess the forethought to carry an umbrella.
He has jet black hair, sort of midway between long and short, ice blue eyes and a classically beautiful face. His physique is lightly muscled in that kind of athletic way, and when he smiles at me politely his whole face lights up. His eyes are all shines and sparkles.
His eyes pull me in, like they hold secrets that could make my boring old life so much more exciting. You don't come across men this alluring very often.
“Fred, you can call me Fred,” I tell him...
He laughs, a wonderfully low sound that vibrates through to my toes. “Okay Fred, you can call me Vivica.”
Our eyes connect and we both smile at his joke. It's funny, but not funny enough to solicit a laugh. “Cool, if we become close friends can I call you Viv?” I respond.
I'd come out with sappy little nuggets of wisdom such as, Nicholas, true love is like a flower, it needs care and sustenance in order to grow. It will be cheesy in the most wonderful way. How sad is it that the idea of playing that kind of a role in his life actually excites me?
“You're very pretty, Fred,” he says, matter of factly. Then he brings his face closer and traces his lips along my ear. “I'd really like to fuck you.”
This is astounding, amazing, so incredibly thrilling. Only today a world travelling cabaret performing drag queen took me out for lunch and named me as his new best friend. The idea plunges my black and white world into a vibrant techni-colour rainbow.
He levels me with a funny look. “You think I'm gay?.."
"...I don't think I've ever heard of a straight drag queen.”
He smiles wryly before knocking back his shot. He stares up at the ceiling when he mutters, “Yeah well, you're looking at one.”
“You're joking right? You have to be at least bi.”
“Nope. I only have eyes for the ladies,” he states, all of a sudden he seems slightly pissed off.
I want all of him. Not just the sex. I want his smiles and his teasing, his smouldering looks. His sad eyes when he thinks nobody's watching. Most of all, I want his heart.
"...You're the perfect friend for me Fred, you the drag king and me the drag queen.”
I tell him that I drove my tractor through his haystack last night.
I tell him that I threw my pitchfork at his dog to keep quiet.
I tell him that I've got a brand new combine harvester and that I want to give him the key.
I tell him that we'll have twins and triplets because I'm a man built for speed.
I tell him that he's a fine looking woman and that I can't wait to get my hands on his land.
My heart thumps hard and fast against my ribcage.
“So, this is me darling, a complete and total contradiction. A fucking mess.” He smiles sadly.
“A beautiful mess,” I proclaim.
“Do you want to know what my favourite part of your body is?” he asks, leaning forward.
“Go on then, enlighten me,” I say, trying to sound bored. It's not like I'm dying to know or anything.
He reaches forward and traces his hand over my stomach. “This part. It's all round and soft. I'd love to fall asleep right here.”
He reaches out across the space between our two sleeping bags. “Give me your hand,” he whispers.
I glance down at his outstretched fingers, then I slowly reach out too and interlock mine with his. He rubs his thumb back and forth over my wrist, and I fall asleep to the calming motion of his touch.
It's the most perfect moment of my life; I want to put it a jar and shelve it, keep it forever.
He asks me what made him behave that way, using words he never says?
He can only think it must be love..
He asks me to kiss him like it's the final meal, kiss him like we'll die tonight..
He says that holy cow he loves my eyes..
That only now he sees the light..
He says to throw the curtains wide, that one day like this a year will see him right..
He pulls back to look down at me. “I love you Freda,” he breathes. “It feels like nobody in the history of the world has loved another person as much as I love you. I love you so much it hurts. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me burn.”
“You colour my world, Freda,” he whispers...
Now he can be a man in a dress, but he isn't lost. He has his golden eyed girl to lead his fractured soul through a world that once seemed dark and empty. In the present there's nothing but bright, wonderful sun light.
He holds her tight, promising himself that he'll never, ever let her go.
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“I want to ruin you Freda, in the best way possible.”
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“You colour my world, Freda.”
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‘I want him so badly it hurts. But I want all of him. Not just the sex. I want his smiles and his teasing, his smouldering looks. His sad eyes when he thinks nobody’s watching. Most of all I want his heart.’
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Oh, I can talk about sex like it’s my specialized subject on Mastermind, but when it comes down to it I’m not that experienced.
I’m getting all hot and bothered about a man who is more comfortable in heels than I am.
I’ve never understood the appeal of sleeping in the nude, but slim people seem to be mad about it. Us heavier types tend to avoid doing anything with our full bodies on show, even if we’re the only ones there to witness it.
Coolock is mainly known for being home to the Cadbury headquarters in Ireland, as well as the Tayto crisps factory
I sat within the valley green, I sat me with my true love
My sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made me think on Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glen and shook the golden barley
'Twas hard the woeful words to frame to break the ties that bound us
But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen I'll seek at morning early
And join the bold united men, while soft winds shake the barley"
While sad I kissed away her tears, my fond arms round her flinging
The foeman's shot burst on our ears from out the wildwood ringing
A bullet pierced my true love's side in life's young spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died while soft winds shook the barley
But blood for blood without remorse I've taken at Oulart Hollow
And laid my true love's clay cold corpse where I full soon may follow
As round her grave I wander drear, noon, night and morning early
With breaking heart when e'er I hear the wind that shakes the barley
"I'll have to admit that somewhere in the back of my mind I wanted to be special to him, different from all of the other women who've turned his head. Isn't that what every girl wants? To be loved by someone uniquely, to make a man feel something he hasn't yet felt for anyone else."
"He would wear her dresses and jewellery and spend hours putting her make-up on his face. In time his habbit would evolve into a need to entertain; a dessire to express his fascination with female form by impersonating it. But for now, it was all about her. The woman who brought him into the world and died before he had the chance to get to know her."
I love him because he makes me laugh when I don't feel like laughing.
I love him because he challenges my view of what a man is.
I love him because I know I shouldn't love him and that he'll break my heart.
I love him because he's a complete and total anomaly.
I love him because I want to kill the sadness inside him more than I want anything else in the world.