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“And I looked out at the dog, and McCoy trying to cradle her in one arm and cut the rope with t’other, and I said, ‘What goes around, comes around, daddy.’
“And he just smiled. A wicked smile. And he nodded. And he kept on driving, turning left onto the road to the church.” ”
― The Trial of Joe Harlan Junior
“And he just smiled. A wicked smile. And he nodded. And he kept on driving, turning left onto the road to the church.” ”
― The Trial of Joe Harlan Junior
“Ivan, the Russian sharpshooter, was sitting, gun in hand, behind one of Borg’s men on a motorbike further down South Eaton Place. The wooden barriers, the parked lorry and the elderly gentleman with the stick were all part of Isaac Walsh’s plan, aimed at hampering the policemen and giving Abbott a chance to escape.”
― Death of an Officer
― Death of an Officer
“Kakve god bile naše muke i naše pobede, kako god ih mi propratili, sve one vrlo brzo izblede, kao mastilo na papiru.”
― Memoirs of a Geisha
― Memoirs of a Geisha
“It will pain me to see you two make fools of yourselves trying to avoid one another."
"I barely see him, I won't look foolish."
Valgu looked unconvinced.
"The times I do see him, I can use one of your aloof expressions that I've been practicing."
"Good idea, he'll never see through that."
"I'm not going to cry openly, or sit around pining for him. I'll pretend it doesn't hurt, until it really doesn't. I know how to do that.”
― Missing Wings
"I barely see him, I won't look foolish."
Valgu looked unconvinced.
"The times I do see him, I can use one of your aloof expressions that I've been practicing."
"Good idea, he'll never see through that."
"I'm not going to cry openly, or sit around pining for him. I'll pretend it doesn't hurt, until it really doesn't. I know how to do that.”
― Missing Wings
“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward.
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would. He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined.
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would. He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined.
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
Summer’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at Summer’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
461 books
|
88 friends
292 books
|
4 friends
240 books
|
29 friends
273 books
|
3 friends
141 books
|
2 friends
219 books
|
4 friends
213 books
|
70 friends
290 books
|
4 friends
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Summer
Lists liked by Summer
