It's here, consumed by a familial trauma that slips through the generations, that she finds herself part of a disparate LA community, while coyotes roam the sweltering hills above the city, poised for the scent of fresh blood. Reeling from the public suicide of a former lover, Joan abandons her apartment in New York and drives west for California, in search of the one person who might help her unravel the past. She knows men, too - their penchant for cruelty, the violence she has absorbed over decades that now threatens to burst from her own hands. He did it in a restaurant where I was having dinner with another man, another married man.ĭo you see how this is going? But I wasn't always that way.Īt thirty-six, Joan knows more than most of the price of pleasure, the quotidian horror of being a woman at the mercy of a man. He was a gluttonous man and when his blood came out it looked like the blood of a pig. I drove myself out of New York City where a man shot himself in front of me.
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