In the San Francisco of the new millennium, nineteen-year-old Roxanne lives in a closet that costs all her paycheck and half her tips. It’s temporary. A generation older, Martin is similarly untethered. He is breaking up with irrepressible Alex. It’s permanent, unless it isn’t.
Martin and Roxanne meet and forge a bond just as their lives vault them into unexpected orbits.
I’m not shocked. But if my Baptist relatives caught me reading this, they’d say you let the devil into your house.
Additional Praise for City of Disappearances
...could be improved by an infusion of butterflies
...will be remembered when Shakespeare is forgotten