“You see, Mr. Phillips, the truth of it is, I am so very American.” She slapped the pen down on the onerous… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“Evie yanked him to safety by the edge of his shirt, ripping it. “Thanks. You owe me a shirt,” Sam said. “You… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“Because I’m not enough, she thought. That was the terrible echo shouting up at her: Fraud, fraud, fraud. She got drunk and… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“Theta rolled over, facing Evie, their noses nearly touching. “Evil?” “Yes?” “I love you. Now, shut up and go to sleep.” — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“Depressive,” Evie said, testing the word on her tongue. “I didn’t know there was a name for that feeling. Like there’s a… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“In her fantasy, she imagined surrendering to a dominating Jericho. She’d liked it as a fantasy. There was something wild and hedonistic… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“It’s Yiddish. Like…Ikh hob dikh lib.” Evie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What does that mean?” Sam smiled. “Maybe one day I’ll… — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
“This is the first family dinner I ever had,” she said. “The first of many,” Evie promised.” — Libba Bray Copy Share Image
