I'm embarrassed when I remember Les. Anything but him, with his crisp and coleslaw breath, his tongue slipping inside my mouth - a mouth much too small. A tongue prising the shell away from the outer membrane of an egg, while a blueish, angular embryo wriggles underneath, uncomfortable, fearful at being prematurely exposed to the light... Shae wants to stop shagging other women's husbands and be a proper queer. Plus, she's bored of only ever getting to use her new strap on a pile of cushions. The answer seems simple enough: come out, go out, and finally get it on with the fit bird at Dyke Night. Or it would be if Evaline, a wayward silicone mistress from the future, wasn't jealous.... A surreal, dirty little book that falls somewhere between Derek McCormack, David Cronenberg, and the tentacle porn you 'accidentally downloaded', Silicone God is for those who like it very, very weird.