When Sam goes on a gay website looking for romance, he finds more than he bargained for. Rejecting all the usual requests for hook-ups, he searches for something more sincere. And he finds it in the most unexpected of places, as he is drawn to the profile of a man in a faraway place. Amir, an Algerian descended from desert nomads, has posted a profile looking for the love of his life. Sam finds it amazing that a gay man born in the Algerian desert has the bravery to not only declare he is gay, but also to admit his dream is to find a husband to spend his life with. While Sam doesn’t consider himself the marrying kind, he starts chatting with Amir, telling himself he just wants to learn about another culture. His friends laugh at him, saying this man just wants to use him to emigrate to the west and take him for his money. But he refuses to believe it, sensing a sincerity he has never seen with anyone else. The two begin a dialogue that moves to weekly Skype sessions, discussions of religion and world politics, assistance with life challenges and, finally, a declaration of love ... and an invitation. Can these two men from vastly different worlds and cultures meet and find common ground for a romance? The challenges are great, and spending a life together seems like an impossible dream. While Sam’s friends continue to discourage him, he knows he cannot give up this man. Is Amir sincere, or is Sam being used? There is only one way to find out if Amir is really sincere. And Sam knows what he has to do.

Not on My Bucket List

I settled down into my seat. Once we were in the air, the sun began to come up over the Mediterranean. I spent my five hours in the Rome airport without anything to eat and without my clean clothes to change into. Those were all in my checked bag. I would have to wait until they fed me on the plane. But as soon as I got my suitcase back in Montreal, one of those cookies would be at the top of my list.


So now I was almost home. The Montreal airport was crowded. It took a long time to retrieve my bag, then get the shuttle back to the hotel where my car was. But as I entered the highway, I figured I would be home by about eleven P.M.


As I waited in line at the booth for American customs, I knew this would not be a typical border crossing for me. This had not just been a trip to Canada. I had gone to a third country. They might want to go through my car. They might even want me to go inside their office for questioning.


“Where are you coming from?” asked the woman inside the booth.


Chapter 40