I had two rules in life: Never fall in love. Never have sex with a student.As a college preceptor, you're not supposed to fraternize with your pupils, but what happens when you get a taste of the forbidden before you know it isn't supposed to be yours? That night at Brian's bachelor party was epic. We danced, I dominated, and she left. One night, no further contact, no regrets, just how I liked it-until she walked into my algebra class the next week, and I knew the two rules I had in place had to change.Never fall in love. Never get caught having sex with a student. | Author: Niquel | Publisher: Bowker | Publication Date: Feb 24, 2022 | Number of Pages: 348 pages | Language: English | Binding: Paperback | ISBN-10: 0996149295 | ISBN-13: 9780996149297

Val has never considered love real.Not tangible, not attainable, nothing more than fiction.Until he came along.Dominant.Insufferable.Bossy.Pyro didn't plan to fall in love. He didn't have time to until a stubborn cupid shot into his life like an arrow soaring through the sky.Now, he wants to prove to Valentine that love is real and Pyro won't give up on him no matter what. Product DetailsISBN-13: 9781088259399 Media Type: Paperback Publisher: Chaotic Press LLC Publication Date: 08-04-2023 Pages: 230 Product Dimensions: 8.50h x 5.50w x 0.63d

This “hilariously chaotic and profound” (Adam Silvera, #1 New York Times bestselling author of They Both Die at the End) summer romp is Netflix’s Never Have I Ever meets What If It’s Us about a high school senior determined to get over his unrequited feelings for his best friend by getting under someone else. Enrique “Quique” Luna has one goal this summer—get over his crush on Saleem Kanazi by pursuing his other romantic prospects. Never mind that he’s only out to his best friend, Fabiola. Never mind that he has absolutely zero game. And definitely forget the fact that good and kind and, not to mention, beautiful Saleem is leaving LA for the summer to reunite with a girl his parents are trying to set him up with. Luckily, Quique’s prospects are each intriguing in their own ways. There’s stoner-jock Tyler Montana, who might be just as interested in Fabiola as he is in Quique; straitlaced senior class president, Ziggy Jackson; and Manny Zuniga, who keeps looking at Quique like he’s carne asada fresh off the grill. With all these choices, Quique is sure to forget about Saleem in no time. But as the summer heats up and his deep-seated fears and anxieties boil over, Quique soon realizes that getting over one guy by getting under a bunch of others may not have been the best laid plan and living his truth can come at a high cost. Product DetailsISBN-13: 9781534485655 Media Type: Hardcover Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers Publication Date: 08-23-2022 Pages: 400 Product Dimensions: 8.30(w) x 5.40(h) x 1.50(d) Age Range: 14 - 18 YearsAbout the Author Aaron H. Aceves is a bisexual, Mexican American writer born and raised in East Los Angeles. He graduated from Harvard College and received his MFA from Columbia University. His fiction has appeared in jmww, Epiphany, and them., among other places. He currently lives in Texas, where he serves as an Early Career Provost Fellow at UT Austin. He can be found at AaronHAceves.com or @AaronAceves on Instagram or @AaronHAceves on Twitter and TikTok.Read an Excerpt Read an Excerpt Chapter One CHAPTER ONE My thumb hovers over the exit button on the remote, poised to strike as soon as I hear the jingling of keys that means one of my parents is home from work. Playing on our enormous flat-screen—easily the most expensive thing in our house because if there’s anything my dad loves more than drinking beer, it’s watching TV—is the end scene of a moody indie film about two white guys in love who don’t end up together. Even though they’re both bawling their eyes out at a train station, I can’t help but envy them. “It’s better to have loved and lost” and all that. When the screen fades to black, I breathe a sigh of relief, switch over to my sitcom equivalent of a security blanket, and grab the bag of Hot Fritos on the glass-and-marble coffee table. Then I stretch out on the übercomfortable puke-green couch my mom inexplicably loves (possibly more than me) and start stuffing my face. During the end credits of the first episode I watch, my phone lights up with a message. I sit up, suck chili powder off my fingers, and check it. Hello! Saleem. God I hate how much I love how formal his texting is. sup, I reply. Did you get home safely? he writes back almost immediately. I smile and put my feet up on the coffee table. It only took one ride in Fabiola’s truck for Saleem to realize that the fact that I make it home every day in one piece is a miracle. nah i died It amuses me to no end to respond this way. With every other person I text, I use adequate punctuation, but not with Saleem. It actually takes more of an effort to reply the dumb way—Autocorrect and I always get locked in a battle of wills as I fight to keep the first word of my sentence lowercase, among other things—but Saleem appreciates the chaotic energy I inject into his life. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Your fingers have remarkable dexterity for a corpse’s. wow dats deadist I hope that makes him laugh. I can’t say what I really want to say, which is “You wanna see how dexterous my fingers are, you sexy brown—” The sound of keys makes me throw my phone across the room. When I look up, my mom’s walking in, and she does not look happy. “Bad day?” I ask. She blows hair out of her deceptively young-looking face. “There aren’t enough cuss words.” My mom works at the CVS down the hill from my school. Every day when she comes home, she goes off about an exceptionally stupid customer that she very graciously refrained from punching in the face. Unless she’s too tired to do so, which looks like the case today. She hangs her keys on the hooks beside the front door that she had my dad install because he could never find his keys in the morning before work, throws her purse onto the faux marble counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, and trudges past me to the hallway on the way to her room. But before she’s all the way there, she backtracks until she’s standing next to the couch, looking down at me. “Why’s your phone all the way over there?” I look to the corner of the room where my cell is lying facedown. “Uh... Fabiola just scored sixty points in Words with Friends.” “Triple word score?” “Yup.” “Smart girl.” She glances at the TV, and my eyes follow hers. The episode currently playing features two lesbian side characters getting married. Shit. I usually skip this episode if my parents are home. But my mom doesn’t say anything, just turns back to me and asks, “When you gonna ask her to marry you?” This question has been a running joke from the time I was thirteen or so, but ever since I turned seventeen, my mom’s been sounding less and less like she’s kidding. “We’d have to start dating for that to happen, Mom.” “Mm-hmm.” I suspect she suspects we already are, but she changes the subject. “How was the last day of school?” “That’s tomorrow.” “Oh.” She rubs her face and sniffs. “How was your second to last day of school?” “Okay. Not too different from all the others.” “Only one year left.” “Yup...” “Well, don’t stay up too late, kid.” She tousles my hair and goes to leave, but then stops. “Chips.” I grab the bag of Fritos from the couch, roll it up, and put it on the coffee table. She nods and is on her way to her bedroom again. When she’s gone, I retrieve my phone, and Saleem’s message is waiting. Is that a term for prejudice against dead people? I reply with one (made-up) word. jes I will have you know that I have a number of close dead relatives, so it is impossible for me to be “deadist.” Oof. How am I supposed to respond to that? He’s joking, but he’s also not.... As I often do when I don’t know how to reply to someone, I shift my focus to something else in the hopes that a perfect response will pop into my head while I’m distracted. In this case, I actually start a game of Words with Fabiola. She completes her turn almost immediately. After she wins, we start another game. I’m in the middle of putting down the word “gay” (for entertainment value, not point value) when my dad gets home. Despite toiling in the sun all day, he actually enjoys his work. I think he and his colleagues spend more time pranking each other than actually washing cars. “Hey, Dad.” “Mijo.” He puts his keys on the counter, walks over to me, kisses my forehead, and then heads to the bedroom. I hear the squeak of springs as he falls onto the bed next to my mom. I play a few more turns before I get up. First, I grab my dad’s keys and hang them on the hooks. Then I head to my parents’ room. Their door’s open, and they’re both passed out in their work clothes. I take off my dad’s boots, then my mom’s sneakers, and turn the ceiling fan on. As I leave their room, I glance at the Bible on my mom’s nightstand and can’t help but sigh. In the living room, I flop down on the couch again and stare at the strip of wall next to the window. Hanging there are two framed decorative cards with my parents’ names on them. Underneath the names, in parentheses, is their biblical meaning. My mom’s card reads, Maria (The wished-for child), and my dad’s says, Abel (Breath). I have a card as well, but it’s hanging in my room. There is no Enrique in the Bible, so we had to cheat. My middle name is Luke, which means “light.” I don’t think that fits me at all. My parents aren’t the most religious people I know—we’re those Christians who only go to church for Christmas and Easter—but they believe in God and grew up with ultraconservative parents, which is why I haven’t told them that I’m bi. Part of me is certain they’ll still love me when—if?—I come out to them, but another part of me keeps saying, You never know.... It’s the same with Jesus. Most of the time, I know He loves me. I mean, that’s what He’s all about. But sometimes when I hear someone—my pastor, my grandparents, a random person on the Internet—say that God hates queers, I have to squash the tiniest inkling of doubt that worms its way into my chest. My eyes travel to the coffee table, where my phone is flashing. I pick it up and see another message from Saleem. Hey, are you still there? yah sars No need for (barely intelligible) apologies. I smirk. how tings wit aya Saleem’s sister Aya is just about the coolest person I know. I’ve only met her once, but I was stunned by her beauty and the confidence with which she carried herself. For some reason, though, whenever she comes home from film school in New York, Saleem gets a little weird about it. They’re going well. Ah, a contraction. That means he’s lying, but I’ll let it go for now. gude gude gude Yes, “gude.” Anyway, I wanted to ask if you happen to be free later tonight. I sit up, my heart pounding because I know where this is going, and all I can think about is how the smallest act on his part—an accidental touch, a compliment, initiating a hangout—can send me reeling. Having feelings for Saleem is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with because I know we can never be together. There are a lot of reasons why that’s true

A collection of poetry about living, loving, and grieving; about the messiness of it all.

French author Guy Blaise states that: “The most tolerant people that I know, both in America and in France, are gay...people in same-sex relationships care more for each other at a level that would embarrass heterosexuals.” No books I’ve read give more credibility to those statements than Never Turn Your Back on the Tide by Kergan Edwards-Stout. While it was the sub-title suggesting I’d be reading about a lying, psychopathic wannabe-murderer that caught my attention, it was the emotions experienced by the principal character, Kergan, in this disturbingly beautiful autobiography that really spoke to my humanity. Without putting a label on it, Kergan knew at a young age that he was gay. He wasn’t unhappy about it, but as he matured, entered the showbiz world, and learned first-hand how many others in all walks of life and at all levels of their businesses and careers were just like him, he also became increasingly aware of the intolerance toward gays. He watched sadly as his closest gay friends succumbed to Aids, one of whom, Shane, became his partner for several years before dying. It was Kergan’s depiction of this particular relationship that showed how people in same-sex relationships do indeed care more for each other “at a level that would embarrass heterosexuals.” Unfortunately, the level of caring in Kergan’s next relationship with “Eyes”, the “lying psychopath,” was strictly one-sided. It took years for Kergan to wake up to the truth and by that time, he and Eyes had adopted a son. While the years Kergan spent with, and later, without Eyes, were heartbreaking for him, what a wonderful, caring single father Kergan became to not just one, but two adopted sons who might otherwise not have had any chance of a good life. Never Turn Your Back on the Tide is a touching and eye-opening read. The style is laid-back, easy to follow; the tone is compassionate, sincere, and honest. These are the kinds of books that need to be written...the autobiographies, the memoirs...if ever the world is to better understand and become more tolerant of the differences between each and every one of us. Thanks for writing this wonderful book, Kergan Edwards-Stout.

—Chocodelights

Country Living's Katie Bowlby reads more than 100 books a year—and loves nothing more than sharing her favorites.

The sequel series to the award-winning My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness! Living on her own is harder than Nagata Kabi expected. Building relationships is difficult too, but with a new friendship to cultivate and a new perspective on her family, she’s doing her best to open up and become a warm, compassionate person! “[...]readers who devoured Lesbian Experience with Loneliness need to pick up this volume, if for no other reason than to know that happiness is a never-ending battle for many, but there are always reasons to keep putting up the good fight. ” –Anime News Network Product DetailsISBN-13: 9781626929999 Media Type: Paperback Publisher: Seven Seas Entertainment Publication Date: 02-12-2019 Pages: 176 Product Dimensions: 5.70(w) x 8.10(h) x 0.60(d) Series: My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness #3About the Author Nagata Kabi is a manga artist best known for her autobiographical comic My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness.

People who don’t read may laugh at you, but grieving for a book you’ve just finished is totally a thing. The worst thing about characters in novels is that they’re not real, and when you’ve turned the last page, you can’t talk to them anymore. It’s…

Unless you're willing to spend hundreds of dollars at used bookstores, these titles won't be part of your library anytime soon.

Release Date: April 26Summary: Skylar Gray is used to being different; he's adopted, nonverbal, queer, and he loves to wear skirts. Despite the adversity he's faced, when Skylar is adopted by a new family, and moved to a new school in a new state, he is optimistic about making new friends. Unfortunately, what he is met with is more bullies, and a new school that implements sexist dress codes that prohibit him from wearing skirts. Luckily for Skylar, this event lights a fire under newly-out rocker boy, Jacob, who loves to paint his nails and dye his hair, and he decides to take a stand with Skylar, no matter the risk to himself.You can pre-order it from Bookshop or your local bookstore via Indiebound here.

Welcome to the Eater Fall Cookbook and Food Book Preview. Here you will find Fall releases (September 1 to December 31) that are about, written by, or could be useful to chefs/restaurants. Fall...

Deaf and Dumb! Third Edition, has been considered important throughout the human history, and so that this work is never forgotten we have made efforts in its preservation by republishing this book in a modern format for present and future generations. This whole book has been reformatted, retyped and designed. These books are not made of scanned copies of their original work and hence the text is clear and readable.