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Quote by Ilsa J. Bick

“You want to brawl. You want to fight. Fighting tricks you into believing you can change the past, even when the past is dead and gone and all of it ashes.”

Quote by Ilsa J. Bick

Book:Ashes

Work

Ashes

In this gripping tale, the remnants of society grapple with the harsh realities of a world ravaged by disaster. The story follows a group of survivors as they navigate a dangerous landscape, seeking refuge and hope amidst the ruins. more

Author

Ilsa J. Bick
Ilsa J. Bick

Ilsa J. Bick, born in 1957, is an American author known for her works in science fiction and fantasy. Her writing has gained popularity among readers for its unique imagination and profound thematic exploration. more

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“Get off! Get off me, ‘Felix sobbed, sounding like a little kid. Marco kicked at the sickos, slashing with his knife. It was no good, though— there were just too many of them — and he himself toppled over, landing on his friend and smothering him. ‘It’s all right Felix, ‘he said. ‘I’m with you. It’s all right. You’re not alone. ‘He felt for Felix’s hand held it tight, as more gym bunnies blocked out the light, swamping them.”

“I thought rape was something a bad man did to you, a man who jumped out at you in an alleyway in the dead of night, a man who held a knife to your throat. I didn't think boys did it. Not schoolboys like Robbie, not good-looking boys, the ones who go out with the prettiest girls in town. I didn't think they did it to you in your own living room, I didn't think they talked to you about it afterwards and asked you if you'd had a good time. I just thought I must have done something wrong, that I hadn't made it clear enough that I didn't want it.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say. Replying with a nod, he approached my horse. “Here, let me help you—” I slipped down myself before he could lend a hand, keeping the fur hide in my possession. “I’m not suddenly incapable because I wear a dress, Thaddeus.” “I wasn’t suggesting…” Wisely, he let the issue drop. Lifting an arm, he offered it to me. That’s when I noticed my sword in sheath belted to his waist. “That’s mine!” I declared, reaching for the hilt. Thaddeus managed a quick side-step. He hardened his jaw at my look of incredulity. I would only wait momentarily for an explanation. “I know the sword is yours, Catherine, everyone knows that. But you’re too beautiful tonight to ruin that radiant look with an ugly, leather belt strapped about you.” I was starting to think the man was using compliments as a weapon to defend himself against me. It did work to temper my anger somewhat. “I brought the sword as a cautionary act in case those nasty werewolves show up. Seeing how I’ll be standing beside you all evening, the blade will be at your disposal if needed.” I accepted his reasoning and stood down. “Besides,” Thaddeus added, apparently feeling safe, “what’s yours is mine now anyway.” I glared at the fool. “That works both ways, you know.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “If it must.” Again, he offered me his arm which I grudgingly accepted.”

“Turn around… you’ve got grass and dead flowers…” My fingers naturally began to comb through my long, black strands, shaking things loose as Sarti carefully removed more stubborn pieces. The flowers were left over from my forced marriage to Thaddeus. The grass, from a sensual night with Kresh on an eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony.”

“When I heard a sharp scream, both shrill and short, my head automatically turned in the direction of the sound. I found Kresh standing at the wooden podium. He had opened one of the books piled upon it. For some odd reason, he was madly tearing out fistfuls of pages. It took a moment to comprehend that the book was screaming in response to his violent actions, as if an inanimate object were actually suffering pain. Kresh ripped the spine off, destroying the book and silencing the cries of anguish. He then threw the mangled carcass on the floor.”