This isn’t a book about rehab. This isn’t a book about recovery. This is a book about using. The use of drugs and alcohol and all the manner of shit that goes along with it. The people, places and things. It’s about how all the above is fun, until the fun stops. Which it does. It crashes and burns like all things of that nature do. This is a collection of short stories of before the initial match was lit, lighting the pyre loaded up of all the skeletons that came tumbling out of Kate's closet. Superficial bullshit with some redeeming qualities. The fallout is to be written later. This is just the precursor. The events she lived through in her first years in New York City. The city of dreams and also despair. So sit tight, Bubba, the shows about to begin.