Fourteen years ago, on the banks of Craving’s Creek, Ryde swore to his best friend Alistair he’d never be alone in the world. Though Alistair was destined for the priesthood, there was something beyond holy about the first kiss they shared. But a fun camping trip went horribly wrong when Alistair was involved in a horrific incident. Now, at age thirty-one, Ryde’s life is a mess of alcohol and the painful imprint of his last look into Alistair’s desperate eyes. Since the evil they encountered on that shore, his first love has been lost to him ... until he learns a friend’s wedding is to be officiated by a priest named Father Alistair Genet. Amid the rush of emotions, one thought crystallizes: Ryde’s love for Alistair has never died. It’s stronger than ever. But can it win over the repressed memories slowly tearing Alistair’s mind apart?

Craving's Creek

An hour ago, Natalie sneaked in a bottle of peach schnapps and that was a bad idea.


The last of the girls are locked up in Sheryl’s brother’s room and I can hear them all sobbing in there. The party is turning into a drama fest. There’s a terrible peach taste in my mouth and the chip bowl is empty.


“I’m gonna get going,” I say, looking over at Sheryl.


She puts her hand on my thigh. “After this song. I love this song.”


The song is “Black” from Pearl Jam, and I used to love it, but I’ve killed it by listening to it over and over and over again. Each man kills the thing he loves, Wilde once wrote.


I think of Alistair and sit up. I’m a little drunker than I thought and I miss him. I’d love to go to his house right now and pour out my heart to him.


“Ryde,” Sheryl says in a strange, dreamy voice. She’s not even looking at me, just staring at the washing machine in the corner. “When I turn eighteen, I’m going to Hollywood.”


Chapter 9