Excerpt: Who are the fanatical chile-heads of The Ring of Fire?

Let Max Little give you a bit of insight.

“Chile heads, heat freaks, endorphin cowboys, we’re called lots of things,” he said. “We’re a specific and unique subset of the human race. A finely focused classification of humanity linked only by a passion, no, obsession, with the heat generated by this fruit of the earth. We come in all shapes, sizes, and colors from across the globe, chasing a fire that will scorch our flesh as we bathe ecstatically in a pleasure and pain delirium caused by something we choose to eat. We can identify each other in bazaars, festivals, and cantinas like vampires. Often a simple nod acknowledges one another, a knowing smack of the lips that follows a moment of something imbibed that approaches hot lava, willingly and with relish. It’s a fraternity of incendiary consumption. A near-religious order of epicurean fanatics.”

Finishing the speech, he drained the glass and folded his arms behind his head. Lilah stared at him in disbelief. He thoroughly believed it, even personified it. Max was an enigma, a palace of many doors, for all his outward simplicity, she thought. The adventure was going to be interesting."