Jennifer Lee Carrell · 432 pages
Rating: (6.4K votes)
“That the good that we do might live on after us, while the evil lies interred with their bones.”
― Jennifer Lee Carrell, quote from Interred with Their Bones
“Right, then.” He pointed across to a bank of phones against the wall. “If you want to check your voice mail, now’s the time.”
“Where’s my phone?”
“Out of service.”
“It was fine in the car.”
“It’s not fine now.”
“What’d you do to it?”
“Put it out of our misery. I’m sorry, Kate. But every minute it’s on, you’re traceable to within the length of a football field, anywhere on the planet.”
― Jennifer Lee Carrell, quote from Interred with Their Bones
“If you don't want the nickname, don't live up to it.”
― Jennifer Lee Carrell, quote from Interred with Their Bones
“An ancient mustiness padded the air, tinged with with an acrid scent-a trace of the war between paper and oxygen, played out in slow inexorable burn that would one day crumble this empire to dust." -page 62”
― Jennifer Lee Carrell, quote from Interred with Their Bones
“I doubt if he himself leaks even enough to piss more than once a year on his birthday,”
― Jennifer Lee Carrell, quote from Interred with Their Bones
“Remember your dead,” she said. “Keep them around you.”
― Octavia E. Butler, quote from Fledgling
“What happened to your arm?" she asked me one night in the Gentleman Loser, the three of us drinking at a small table in a corner.
Hang-gliding," I said, "accident."
Hang-gliding over a wheatfield," said Bobby, "place called Kiev. Our Jack's just hanging there in the dark, under a Nightwing parafoil, with fifty kilos of radar jammed between his legs, and some Russian asshole accidentally burns his arm off with a laser."
I don't remember how I changed the subject, but I did.
I was still telling myself that it wasn't Rikki who getting to me, but what Bobby was doing with her. I'd known him for a long time, since the end of the war, and I knew he used women as counters in a game, Bobby Quine versus fortune, versus time and the night of cities. And Rikki had turned up just when he needed something to get him going, something to aim for. So he'd set her up as a symbol for everything he wanted and couldn't have, everything he'd had and couldn't keep.
I didn't like having to listen to him tell me how much he loved her, and knowing he believed it only made it worse. He was a past master at the hard fall and the rapid recovery, and I'd seen it happen a dozen times before. He might as well have had next printed across his sunglasses in green Day-Glo capitals, ready to flash out at the first interesting face that flowed past the tables in the Gentleman Loser.
I knew what he did to them. He turned them into emblems, sigils on the map of his hustler' s life, navigation beacons he could follow through a sea of bars and neon. What else did he have to steer by? He didn't love money, in and of itself , not enough to follow its lights. He wouldn't work for power over other people; he hated the responsibility it brings. He had some basic pride in his skill, but that was never enough to keep him pushing.
So he made do with women.
When Rikki showed up, he needed one in the worst way. He was fading fast, and smart money was already whispering that the edge was off his game. He needed that one big score, and soon, because he didn't know any other kind of life, and all his clocks were set for hustler's time, calibrated in risk and adrenaline and that supernal dawn calm that comes when every move's proved right and a sweet lump of someone else's credit clicks into your own account.”
― William Gibson, quote from Burning Chrome
“The angel of death had cruised him. Death, that hustler, that last lover.”
― Patricia Nell Warren, quote from The Front Runner
“He nodded again. “We didn’t know Lexis was pregnant when we both volunteered for some…experiments to enhance our DNA. Unfortunately, those experiments affected Sunny more than me and Lexis.”
― Gena Showalter, quote from Playing with Fire
“Are you sure I can't mend a shirt or darn a sock for you in trade? Anything?"
"You can quit your yammerin' and carry this table downstairs so I can get back to minding my own business instead of messing around in yours.”
― Karen Witemeyer, quote from A Tailor-Made Bride
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