Books read in 2019

#24: The Gravedigger’s Brawl by Abigail Roux

Ash was a good-looking guy: dark curls, darker eyes, tall and wiry.

TGB, p. 8

He wore a long-sleeved white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his wiry biceps, with black suspenders and pin-striped black trousers. His eyes were lined in heavy kohl, and when he spoke, Wyatt caught glimpses of metal on his tongue. His black hair was slicked back, long enough that it ended in riotous curls behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. He looked almost like an Old West bartender in his getup. As unusual as the total package was, it was appealing on that particular man in this particular setting. There was something very pseudo-Victorian about the whole thing.

TGB, p. 10

“Sarsaparilla.” Ash had a nice drawl that Wyatt thought may have come from the Gulf Coast, dulled by years away from home.

TGB, p. 12

He pulled the straw out and gave Wyatt a disarming smile. He had beautiful teeth, save for a small chip in one of his canines that gave him an impish quality. It was the only imperfection on his otherwise stunning face.

TGB, p. 12

Wyatt admired the way the wiry muscles in his shoulders moved under the thin white shirt. The suspenders were . . . intriguing.

TGB, p. 14

Wyatt couldn’t tear his eyes from Ash’s; their dark brown depths were nearly black in the low light.

TGB, p. 24

Ash was wearing charcoal gray trousers and a sleeveless undershirt. Burgundy suspenders highlighted the outfit. Again, it was a quirky ensemble, even without the kohl around his eyes this morning. But it suited him.

TGB, p. 38

Here in the light of day, Ash was almost better looking than Wyatt remembered, if that was possible. The sleeveless undershirt suited his lithe frame, showing off the definition of his wiry muscles, and for some reason the suspenders were growing on Wyatt.

TGB, pp. 39-40

When he concentrated hard on something, his tongue seemed to find its way out and curl around the corner of his mouth. It was endearing. Even with the tongue ring sticking through it.

TGB, p. 40

Ash hadn’t changed his clothing since Wyatt had seen him that morning, but he looked different. The heavy eyeliner was back, accenting his dark eyes, and his wavy hair had been gelled, appearing jet black and perpetually wet.

TGB, p. 49

He wasn’t wearing suspenders today, just a pair of casual black trousers and a bright red tuxedo vest over a V-neck T-shirt.

TGB, p. 60

An hour later he had showered, foraged through his kitchen, and was dressed in a pair of black track pants and a hooded LSU sweatshirt. He grabbed his keys and left, heading across the way to pick up his neighbor’s dog for a walk. Anyone who saw him in the next couple of hours would never recognize him as the man who tended bar at Gravedigger’s. His unfettered hair was curly and still damp. There was no eyeliner in sight. The only possible hint of his “true identity” was the tongue ring he’d been too lazy to change out.

TGB, p. 88

Ash was delighted when Wyatt told him to come however he wanted, and he got quite a few compliments on the steampunk-inspired outfit he pulled together.

TGB, p. 142

He had little nubs of horns under his hairline that seemed to be sprouting out of his forehead, just like Caleb’s only much smaller, and a long tail that moved with him as he danced to the music. He opened his mouth to show off his elongated canines—without any chips—and the stud in his tongue, a long black strip that held three balls and gave the impression at a glance that Ash’s tongue was forked. His clothing had an old, mottled velvet quality to it, and it seemed to fall away from him in strips but still hug close enough not to catch on his bottles. It was a brilliant outfit.

TGB, p. 163

Ash: Who is that? I don’t think I know any Owens.

Ash: Things are good! I’m not possessed anymore, so that’s fun.

Wyatt: Ash tried to teach me how to flair and I spent the night in the hospital. That’s about the most exciting thing that’s happened recently.

Ash: Last night was exciting.

I love everyone in that book, so fucking much. It's so good and the cover is so pretty. And it's creepy which is one of my favorite things ever and it's just awesome. Ash and Noah are my BBs.

“Ash said you were a cranky bastard,” Noah said. He stepped past Ash, knelt in front of Caleb, and took the cigar, examining it with a critical eye before taking a slow drag.

Ash watched in stunned silence, holding his breath as they waited for Caleb to respond.

Noah handed the cigar back and blew a perfect ring of smoke past Caleb’s face toward the door. “Cubans, huh?” he asked with a cheeky smirk.

Caleb stared at him for a long moment, mouth ajar, the trail of smoke from the cigar slithering up into the air between them as Ash and Wyatt waited, tense and silent.

"You can go home, you know. You don't have to stick around." "No, I'm good. You stuck through my stuffy exhibit opening last night, I can do this." "Wyatt. You actually have a job to go to in the morning." Ash leaned closer. "Your effort is noted and you will be laid for it." Wyatt snorted and looked sideways at Ash again.