Her breaths were coming in a happy storm, her face crimsoning, her nostrils playing in trembling dilation.

… when the enlightened and assimilated Viennese burocrat Dr. Frankl realizes with horror …

I write this book with the goal of showing you that Two-Spirit and queer Indigenous folx are not a “was,” that we are [...still present.] […]

Beetles crunched beneath the men's heavy boots as they worked.