David Fisher is a name synonymous with a given personas. On the one hand is a Goodreads bio relating a writing actor. With the premises surrounding The Man You Sleep With and the book’s obscurity, it is easy to pin it down 95% to this David Fisher, a Holly affiliate and part of the National Treasure cast. On the other hand surfaces a science writer dabbling in fiction, but only hints of science are concurrent to convey certain aspects of the story. Of the two, the last mentioned penned this introspective back-flash murder-mystery session and its where-abouts.
  Not long ago, the Mad Mane Machine came across Murder Machree, which appears to be at par with The Man You Sleep With on quite a number of aspects: Film references and placed and opportunistic name dropping around the 30’s cinema period—check title; A clash with poetry on a light manner; and murders most foul—straining relations.
  Deceit has long existed as a human extension and loopholes well exploited provide a standing mystery for schemers to run loose, if not free. Here are two young men who befriend a lady—and as is bound,she has to decide which of the two. Bob loses Sarah to Turner for failing to express himself at the crucial moment. He does mind if Sarah marries Turner but doesn’t say so when given the chance, yet the three know otherwise is how it should be.
  Falling out of affection breeds Turner‘s decision to rid of Sarah. Divorce will lead to losing the real estate company he built for her father. Fueled by this paranoia, the plans are set in his mind, although action is a tad tighter than brain sequencing of events. The shortcomings of all plans lay in overlooking the role chance might play on the chains of events—indeed a significant one. Back-flashes tear the story into percepts of events and their relations to the tale. Raising questions which old-timey Bitch Slap had a clutch on.

  Part of it attains a dark urban edge once Turner takes the reader to the gritty parts of his frequent city. The remaining part is an unapologetic film bait which brashly and audaciously  gives the punchline-like title The Courtesy not to Bleed.

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