She loves her job and she has a comfortable bed. Granted, her love life is non-existent, her pot-smoking mother is wreaking havoc in her apartment, and she is starting to suspect that her lesbian best friend might be secretly in love with her. But none of that matters when Davey meets Danny, a kind, loving, intelligent man who just may be the love of Davey's life. Until it turns out that Danny is harboring a secret of his own.

    Convinced they’ll never meet again Anwar puts him out of his mind, but the awkwardly charming man keeps turning up in his life.

    But what if the marriage at risk is a gay one, and having a baby involves a surrogate mother?    Pat Faunce is a faltering romantic, a former poetry major who now writes textbooks. A decade into his relationship with Stu, an airline pilot from a fraught Jewish family, he fears he’s losing Stu to other men—and losing himself in their “no rules” arrangement. Yearning for a baby and a deeper commitment, he pressures Stu to move from Manhattan to Cape Cod, to the cottage where Pat spent boyhood summers.    As they struggle to adjust to their new life, they enlist a surrogate: Debora, a charismatic Brazilian immigrant, married to Danny, an American carpenter. Gradually, Pat and Debora bond, drawn together by the logistics of getting pregnant and away from their spouses. Pat gets caught between loyalties—to Stu and his family, to Debora, to his own potent desires—and wonders: is he fit to be a father?    In one of the first novels to explore the experience of gay men seeking a child through surrogacy, Michael Lowenthal writes passionately about marriages and mistakes, loyalty and betrayal, and about how our drive to create families can complicate the ones we already have. The Paternity Test is a provocative look at the new “family values.”

    He has the grades, the extracurriculars, the athletics, and a part-time job at his dad’s shop… every detail specifically chosen to ensure the college scholarships he needs to get the hell out of the Podunk town where he lives. The last thing he needs is an unexpected attraction to Graham, an eyeliner-wearing soccer phenom from St. Louis, who makes him question his goals and his sexuality. Sure, he’s noticed good-looking boys before—that doesn’t have to mean anything, right?—but he’s got a girlfriend. There’s no room on the agenda for hooking up with Graham, but the heart doesn’t always follow the rules.As he and Graham grow close, other aspects of Connor’s life fall apart. Family pressure, bad luck, and rumors threaten to derail his carefully laid plans. Suddenly the future he’s fighting for doesn’t seem quite as alluring, especially if he has to deny who he really is to achieve it.

    What is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?In her debut poetry collection, Darshana Suresh explores what it means to be alive, and how hurting and healing can often be overwhelmingly intertwined.She does not write about recovery. Instead, she writes about carrying on until you are ready to recover.

    Simultaneously, this compilation unpacks the contentious relationship that exists between Róisín and her mother, her platonic and romantic heartbreaks, and the cognitive dissonance felt as a result of being so divided among her broad spectrum of identities.

    Marcus intends to sell the house to finance his dreams, but a group of lovable busybodies, the Do Nothings, a new job at the local diner, the Tammy Dinette, and a handsome mechanic named Hank cause Marcus to rethink his plans. Will he return to the life he knew, or will he finally put down roots?

    Amy is an enigma-a brilliant scholar who has forgotten how to read. She is estranged from her wealthy English parents and lives a nomadic life in Scotland, dragging Kate from one school to the next, barely scraping by. And then there is Ash, a fiery Scottish actresss who cannot shake her demons-chief among them an unrequited passion for Amy that has obsessed her ever since they met as teenagers. Like is the story of two parallel lives that intersect briefly, then diverge. It is also a timeless evocation of adolescence and its agonizing anticipations, its contradictory yearnings for freedom and safety, its blind quest for mastery over pleasure and pain. Deftly constructed, passionately imagined, Like is a remarkably mature debut for a powerful young talent.

    But understanding and loving people is harder than it sounds, and Marie soon realizes that having faith and living in 1960s Britain doesn’t leave much room for those who are different from the norm. They only really leave room for shame, prejudice, and, oh yeah, more shame. So Marie decides to do as she sees fit—with some hilarious, moving, and unexpected results. As we follow Marie from the sixties to the nineties, we find out what it means to be a spirited young woman from a religious household who believes that maybe, just maybe, God doesn’t care WHAT you do with your body as long as it makes you happy. Because really, what harm can come from loving people?

    It’s quiet, routine, and, at the moment, plagued with writer’s block. If only just a little of the passion burning up the pages of her books would warm her lonely bed. But to be honest, one-night stands aren’t her thing.When her best friend buys her a lap dance to celebrate her latest bestseller, Faye is more than shocked. She’s intrigued by the stunningly beautiful dancer whose gentle eyes seem vaguely familiar. Talia isn’t surprised that her favorite coffee shop customer doesn’t recognise her. Few would connect Talia, mild-mannered barista, with Adria, pole dancer and star of Liverpool’s hottest new strip club. And that’s how Talia wants it. It’s safer this way.In the glaring spotlight though, no truth can hide for long. For two women from different worlds, falling in love can be a delicious dance—and a dangerous game. Not only for their careers, but for their hearts.

    Born a werewolf, she escaped to the other side of the country to try to run away from who she was...but it didn't work. Her wife cheated on her, her business is in ruins, and down on her luck and destitute, Mel has no other choice but to return home...and to the pack. Enter Dani Ingram, the woman Mel never thought she'd face again...the leader of the pack. They fell in love, once upon a time, but Mel left. Now, Dani's different from when Mel last saw her...she's sexy as all hell, but has a chip on her shoulder. When Mel sees Dani after all this time, there are sparks hot enough to start an inferno...but an inferno is often too powerful to control. What follows next is a fiery, passionate story of love, lust and embracing who you really are.

    Coal is one of the earliest collections of poems by a woman who, Adrienne Rich writes, "for the complexity of her vision, for her moral courage and the catalytic passion of her language, has already become, for many, an indispensable poet."Marilyn Hacker captures the essence of Lorde and her poetry: "Black, lesbian, mother, urban woman: none of Lorde's selves has ever silenced the others; the counterpoint among them is often the material of her strongest poems."

    The poems’ subject is the natural world, but their images would never occur in nature. This book is serious and funny at the same time, like a big grave with a clown lying in it.

    Jose, a feisty woman journalist, loves Serafita, a sheltered upper-class girl. They call themselves the "heretic quartet." In fascist Spain of the 1960's, these four lovers struggle to keep their secret amid brutal family clashes and terrifying religious repression.A searingly tender story of the past with lessons for toady

    Brown’s poetic concerns are both broad and intimate, and at their very core a distillation of the incredibly human: What is safety? Who is this nation? Where does freedom truly lie? Brown makes mythical pastorals to question the terrors to which we’ve become accustomed, and to celebrate how we survive. Poems of fatherhood, legacy, blackness, queerness, worship, and trauma are propelled into stunning clarity by Brown’s mastery, and his invention of the duplex―a combination of the sonnet, the ghazal, and the blues―testament to his formal skill. The Tradition is a cutting and necessary collection, relentless in its quest for survival while revelling in a celebration of contradiction.