I am a ghost in a land of phantoms and forgotten nightmares.
Ilsa J. BickFollow your heart. Just don't get lost.
Ilsa J. BickMots clés inspirational dark draw bick ilsa
With no sense of smell, your memories dropped like pennies out of a ripped pocket, until the past was ashes and your parents were blanks: nothing more than the holes in Swiss cheese.
Ilsa J. BickMots clés romance grief-in-chains
Those brain-zapped kids weren’t the only - or maybe even the worst - enemy.
Ilsa J. BickWhy can't you like me?" he said, his voice breaking. His scent steamed then, hot and heady with a welter of contradictions: apples and fire and electric roil of those cold, black shadows. "Why can't you like me just a little?"
She would never know how she might have answered, because he never gave her the chance.
Instead, he kissed her.
Run, she told herself. Run, you idiot, run.
But she didn't. She couldn't. She just... couldn't.
It was that stages-of-anger thing. I was shocked and then I got pissed and then I fought like hell … and then I went numb. They called it acceptance, but it wasn’t. It’s what happens when you have only two choices: live with the monster, or kill yourself.
Ilsa J. BickI am a ghost in a land of phantoms and remembered nightmares.
Ilsa J. BickThe things you think about when you're a hair's breath away from getting yourself killed.
Ilsa J. BickI doubted I would need my eyes. I drew in the dark, after all.
Ilsa J. BickPage 1 de 4.
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