For the residents, there is no memory of anything outside of the town’s borders and, for those curious enough cross that line, they are left with no memory of who they are or where they are from until they return to the city limits. The town of Amorea is lost in time, quite literally. It was with great surprise and ample relief therefore, to discover T J Klune’s most excellent fantasy love story that could encompass any persuasion. I have exceptionally low expectations when it comes to gay literature, with past experiences showing that most are either poorly written or an excuse to air soft porn fantasies. And Mike will do whatever he can to keep the man he loves. There are shadows crawling along the walls and great clouds of birds overhead that only he can see. He hears voices in his house late at night. Slow and steady wins the race, or so they say.īut something's wrong with Mike.

It may be the world's longest courtship, but no one can deny the way they look at each other. Why they haven't gotten their acts together is anybody's guess. The Women's Club of Amorea runs the town with an immaculately gloved fist.Īnd bookstore owner Mike Frazier loves that boy down at the diner, Sean Mellgard. The people here know certain things as fact: Doors are left unlocked at night, and neighbors are always there to give each other a helping hand. The memories of a world at war are fading in the face of a prosperous future. And Mike will do whatever he can to keep the man he loves.In the small mountain town of Amorea, it's stretching toward autumn of 1954. There are shadows crawling along the walls, and great clouds of birds overhead that only he can see. Slow and steady wins the race, or so they say.īut something’s wrong with Mike. It may be the world’s longest courtship, but no one can deny the way they look at each other.

Why they haven’t gotten their acts together is anybody’s guess. The Women’s Club of Amorea runs the town with an immaculately gloved fist.Īnd bookstore owner Mike Frazier loves that boy down at the diner, Sean Mellgard. In the small mountain town of Amorea, it’s stretching toward autumn of 1954.

Murmuration by T.J. Klune