“Ah, sweetie. If the poets couldn’t unriddle them, then you certainly can’t. Be kind, and keep your ears on offer if she wants to talk. But you can’t draw out the strangeness, Edgar. It’s not a poison.” — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“A memory: Isola as a toddler, sugarlump teeth, skin still smelling of milk. Hair that curled without use of an iron and sweet dresses that didn’t matter were dirtied. When she was old enough, she demanded the usual suspects at bedtime: The Little Mermaid, Hansel and Gretel, Beauty and the Beast. Even then, Mother’s contempt for non-Pardieu fairytales was obvious.… — Allyse Near Copy Share
“The bathroom was jungle-fogged, flooded with puddles, piled with soaked towels; cakes of soap with long strands of blonde baked in. A girl in… — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“He said her name like a detective unmasking the face of the culprit he'd suspected all along.” — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“Once upon a time, Isola Wilde was watching late-night television with her eldest brother, Alejandro, when Channel 12 broadcast a live suicide.” — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“No sooner are her glass toes thrust into the mud grave than the revolutions begin. Uprisings, fire and steel. The prince is lynched in… — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“There was something familiar but strange about her - Snow White with a suntan. Cinderella in biker boots. Tough and delicate and magical and… — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“Ah, sweetie. If the poets couldn’t unriddle them, then you certainly can’t. Be kind, and keep your ears on offer if she wants to… — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
“She was woman, she was wildwood, she was whore, witch, wolverine. The gold ring on her finger shackled her to reality, to the world… — Allyse Near Copy Share Image
