cover image Secret Society

Secret Society

Miasha, . . Touchstone, $12 (213pp) ISBN 978-0-7432-8158-4

For Celess and her best friend, Tina, "runnin' game" on dudes with dollars is a full-time occupation. Somewhere just out of their teens, tricked out in Chanel, Chloé and D&G, the "flyest girls out there" hit the fights, the games and the clubs, looking for men who like to spend their cash. By page nine, Celess has a trio of men to meet her needs: "O was my hustler from Delaware. James was my baller from Philly. Tariq was my businessman from New Jersey." And by page 20, Celess reveals the secret of the title: she and Tina are men, too. Readers know from the preface that their story ends tragically—but which of their lovers, when he finds out the truth, will reach for his gun? Miasha's narrative has few developed scenes, and "We had a brief conversation about my outfit and how good I looked in it" is pretty much what passes for dialogue. But beneath the litany of shopping and screwing, lying and dodging, the tension bubbles—Tina and Celess know they're playing a dangerous game. As James bugs out, O gets killed and Tariq vanishes, Celess gets her nails into Darrell, who's married; Terry, who's white (and likes Celess's male parts); and Michael, who really loves her. But this isn't a fairy tale. Scandalous and engrossing, this debut from Miasha (just one name; she lives in the Atlanta suburbs with her spouse and child) shows her to be a writer to watch. (Apr.)