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Quote by Anais Torres

“Emma stared at the ceiling of the hotel room. Her thoughts went over every memorial, each picture, the families and children left behind. At this point it was a nightly routine. Some people counted sheep. Emma counted her father’s victims. One by one.”

Quote by Anais Torres

Book:The Reaper's Daughter
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The Reaper's Daughter

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Anais Torres

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“left. when you were in the womb. took his blood. and walked out the door. while you were in the house of your mother. in the house of your mother. took his blood. when you needed it most. if he could keep searching his hands. in the midst of your creation. could hear you forming on your mother’s life. on his life. and gather all his feet in secret. all the other wild adventures of missing. he would drag you through. would only ever be this wound. over and over and over again. your father left. when you were in the womb. took his blood. and walked out the door. it would be the first and final. of all the leavings. — all the leavings”

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“Another thing I knew: I knew my sister, Laleh, wasn't an accident. Many people thought so, because she was eight years younger than me, and my parents weren't "trying for another child," which is kind of gross if you think about it. But she wasn't an accident. She was a replacement. An upgrade. I knew that without anyone saying it out loud. And I knew Stephen Kellner was relieved to have another chance, a new child who wouldn't be such a disappointment. It was written across his face every time he smiled at her. Every time he sighed at me. I didn't blame Laleh for that. I really didn't. But sometimes I wondered if I was the one who was an accident. That's normal. Right?”

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Book:Darius the Great Is Not Okay
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“The ninth Earl of Ellesmere had his chin thrust out as far as it would go, but the defiant look in his eye was tempered with a certain doubt as he intercepted Jamie’s cold blue gaze. Jamie set the horse’s hoof down slowly, just as slowly stood up, and drawing himself to his full height of six feet four, put his hands on his , looked down at the Earl, three feet six, and said, very softly, “No.”

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“Hey, Lottie?" asked Claire. "Who are those girls?" She gawked at the entrance to the reception tent. I followed her gaze and we both laid eyes on two extremely tall and gorgeous women who had just strolled in. Who came to a wedding after the ceremony? (Tacky people, that's who.) The glamazons were dressed from head to toe in Valentino and looked like they came straight off the runway. I approached one of the young women, hoping to sniff out whether she was a wedding crasher or not. "Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?" "Neither!" she said with a toss of her thick, dark-brown hair. "We're Alfie's daughters. We weren't going to come, but we decided it would be more fun to actually show up and ruin the wedding." Talk about literal. Subtext and these girls were not friends. "Oh, hi," I replied. "Well, you missed the ceremony, but cocktail hour has begun. The first dance will be starting soon." "Perfect." She walked between Claire and me like we were a pair of black curtains. "Why is it that hot, mean girls are still intimidating, even a decade after high school?" I winced.”

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“As always, the dosas were perfect, crisp and lacy, and the unusual chef's addition of the habanero chutney made Naina's mouth burn in the best way. She'd inherited her ability to tolerate spice from her mother. Dr. Kohli was something of a wimp in this department, and so naturally Naina and her mother only ever ate the truly hot stuff when he wasn't around. "Never make people feel bad when you're better at something than they are," her mother had said with an unfamiliar amount of glee one night at dinner when her husband had been on call and she'd made the potato bhujia with enough red chili powder to make even Naina and her break into a sweat.”

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“Turning to the canvas bag, she pulled out a foil package. The smoky, buttery smell of naan made the different types of hunger coursing inside him mix together. "Does your mom actually make naan at home?" She opened the packet and held it in front of his nose, and he picked one up and shoved it in his mouth and almost died on the spot from the chewy, yeasty deliciousness. "Mummy's made it since before homemade naan was a trend. My parents have always had an old-fashioned tandoor oven in the house. Because Dr. Kohli needs his naan and kababs." The brightness sparkling in her eyes dimmed.”

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