Karla Castro

“Sorry,” I said, realizing I was taking my frustrations out on her. “I’m still getting over Soph,” I said, referring to my old prep school friend.
Sophie Price was the most beautiful girl you’d ever met. Seriously. Take it from someone who’s met Bar Refaeli in person. Soph was even more stunning. Especially since she’d had a personality makeover. I’d never regret anything as much as I would not making her fall in love with me.
“You can’t make anyone fall, Spence. Either they do or they don’t.”
“I said that out loud?”
“Duh and it’s been two years, Spencer. You seriously need to get over her. She’s with that Ian guy anyway, right?”
“Right.”
“That hot South African guy named Ian,” she concluded.
“Thanks.”
“That hot saffy named Ian who gives his life to mutilated Ugandan orphans and worships the ground Sophie walks on.”
I stopped and glared at her. “That’ll do, Bridge.”
― Fisher Amelie, Greed

“I can’t do that,” he said, exhaling sharply and staring out the glass into the street.
“Why not?”
His face softened. “I need his money.”
Spencer looked at me and I couldn’t help but stare back. We were all in the same boat, prisoners to GREED.”
― Fisher Amelie, Greed

“If you took everything I’d ever found hot in a girl and piled them into a corner, you’d get Cricket Hunt standing in a corner.”
― Fisher Amelie, Greed

“I ran up the stairs, shedding pieces of my suit as I went, determined for a shower, resolute in washing away what I’d just done, who I really was but I was certain there was nothing that could cleanse me, to launder my poisoned blood. This was who I was. Hopeless personified.”
― Fisher Amelie, Greed