Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Caroline Peckham

Quote by Caroline Peckham

“Do you have a pirate fetish or something?” I blurted, eyeing the coins and gold with confusion. “What?” he asked, his scowl somehow defying the laws of physics and finding a way to deepen. “Well, you’re half naked in a bed full of coins so either you’re doing something with them or putting them somewhere...inaccessible while fully dressed or I missed the memo about your enrolment in Captain Silver’s new fleet.” A beat of silence passed as his gaze dragged over me. “You really don’t know anything do you?” he asked. “This is how my kind regenerate our power; from gold.” “Oh.” I frowned at the coins again as I processed that. “So, are you Order of pirate then? Do you transform into a one-legged man with an eyepatch, a hankering for rum and a pet parrot?”

Quote by Caroline Peckham

Book:The Awakening
Create image

Work

The Awakening

This novel delves into the transformative journey of a protagonist as they navigate the complexities of their own identity and the expectations of their society. more

Author

Caroline Peckham

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Caroline Peckham. more

You May Also Like

“Let me stay with you, Ash." Ash couldn't breathe as he understood what she was asking. What she needed. And for the first time in eternity, he was willing to bleed in order to give her life. "Are you sure?" She nodded. He brushed his hair aside and tilted his neck for her. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the pain of her bite. For the hated sensation of her breath on his neck while she fed. Tory paused as she felt him go rigid. It took her a second to realize why. Ash couldn't stand to have anyone breathe on his neck and yet there he sat, offering himself to her without complaint of comment. In that moment she loved him all the more. And with her newfound senses, she knew his neck wasn't the only pace she could feed from ... Ash opened his eyes as she moved away from him. Frowning, he watched as she dipped down and bit into his inner thigh. he sucked his breath in sharply as a wave of desire blinded him and hardened his cock which was only a few inches from her mouth. But greater than that was the shock that she hadn't grabbed his hair and hurt him while she fed from his neck. She was being gentle and considerate, and when she looked up at him, her eyes matched his. That deep swirling silver that he hated so much was beautiful on her. They were bound together now. His powers. His blood. They were hers too. But even so, he wanted her as she'd been. Kissing her lips, he turned her yes back to the brown color that had stolen his heart the first time she'd looked around the room in nervous panic. This was the woman he loved. The one he couldn't live without.”

GentleAshBoundTory
Author:Sherrilyn Kenyon
Create image

“A veces llueve, y a veces el viento arrastra papeles en calles protegidas, se apagan luces y tiemblan sombras. La radio ronronea inagotable noticias, melodías solicitadas y bobos anuncios de Lavaman en el húmedo patio de la pensión. La línea. «No la cruces nunca», me decía Ballesta. «En el otro lado de la línea te equivocas, elijas el sentido que elijas», insistía Ballesta. «La tarea no consiste ya en no equivocarse, sino en ocultarte», aconsejaba Ballesta. La línea.”

Mistakes We MakeWatusi
Book:El idioma imposible
Create image

“El día del Watusi fue el 15 de agosto de 1971. Aún no era septiembre y ya habíamos ocupado la portería en la que iba a trabajar mi madre, un sótano próximo al gran templo que bautiza el barrio donde impone su sombra. Toda la ciudad, y no sólo las familias de comerciantes y empleados a los que ella iba a servir, comulgaba en un exagerado afecto por la quimera arquitectónica. Eran incesantes las cuestaciones populares para que ese delirio creciera aún más. «¡Ya tenemos cinco torres! Ya tenemos seis!», exclamaba la población con entusiasmo.”

First SentenceWatusiCatalanes Ricos
Author:Francisco Casavella
Create image

“I lean back and tilt my head so all I see are the clouds in the sky. I'm looking back inside my head with my eyes wide open. I still don't know where I'm going; I decided I'm not crazy or alien. It's just that I'm more like one of those kids they find in remote jungles or forests []. A wolf child. And they've dragged me into this fucking schizo-culture, snarling and spitting and walking around on curled knuckles.”

CultureRageBelongingAlienationQueerRabid
Book:The Waterfront Journals
Create image

“Rabid’s pink eyes lose their shimmer, hazy like cotton candy. Before the door closes he mutters, “Zombies in Toyland?” Dad pauses shutting him out and exchanges a worried glance with Mom. I giggle. “It’s a game on my phone. Rabid beat my high score a few weeks ago.” I smirk at my little advisor. “We’ll play it again soon. I have to get my title back.” His eyes brighten. “Generous are you! Cookies, too? Rabid White hungry be. Always.” I laugh. “Yeah, always. I’ll have Mom make you some cookies.” He grins, then hops away down the hall, looking more like a rabbit than a demented otherworldly being.”

HungryCuteCookiesGameAlyssaRabid
Book:Ensnared
Create image