More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
there’s nothing better than the memories of others when you’re little and have no stories of your own.
“Please, Jane, how many times must I tell you, there will be no talk of politics,” Miss Duncan admonishes gently. “That is entirely too coarse a subject for young ladies to discuss, even ladies of color.”
pshhh, we can chop the heads off of zombies but not talk about politics? okay
The Isaac twins were always up to no good. They were my favorite people in the whole damn world.
she a mess lol
One: the dead will take everything you love. You have to end them before they can end you. That’s exactly what I aim to do.
okay miss gurl
Survivalists believe that the continued existence of humanity depends on securing the safety of white Christian men and women—whites being superior and closest to God—so that they might “set about rebuilding the country in the image of its former glory,” the way it was before the War Against the Dead. I don’t particularly hold no truck with the notion, since being a Negro pretty much puts me in the inferior column.
the world as they know it is OVER, but white supremacy is somehow trying to prevail smh
The professor wipes at his brow with a pocket square before continuing. “I personally believe that the low rate of infection amongst the red man and the Negro is a direct consequence of the fact that neither the Indian nor the Negro is as highly developed as their European cousins, and thus show some of the resistance to the pathogen that we see in animals. Many argue this is an indication that, as polygenesis proponents have speculated in centuries past, the Negro is descended from a species entirely separate from the European Homo sapiens—one more closely related to the wild apes of the
...more
this mf here...
Everyone turns in their seats, and a few of the ladies nearer the front gasp, though whether because of my terrible hairdo or because I dared to interrupt, I ain’t certain. Either way, I have everyone’s attention. Here’s a thing about me: I ain’t all that good at knowing when to keep my fool mouth shut.
lol, go 'head Jane. talk your shit
“Girl,” he begins, in his condescending politician’s voice, “your concern for your betters is a credit to the fine training you’ve received out there by Miss Preston’s.
somebody bite this bitch
But when you think of shamblers as things, as mindless creatures who have to be put down so that we might live, ending them gets to be a lot easier. The farmer doesn’t cry over slaughtering a hog.
“I ain’t sorry this happened to you. With a fool’s pride comes disgrace. Or something like that.”
lmao Jane a fool fr
Of course that high yellow Jezebel told on me. Girl would rat out Jesus to the Romans.
lol
when she heard the chug and wheeze of the government ponies coming into the front yard, the federal seal painted on the side of the steam-powered metal carriages. “Keep her away from those bureaucratic bastards. Keep her safe,” she said to Auntie Aggie
steampunk type shi, okurrrrr
I breathe heavily, my sickles and hands covered in the inky mess that is a shambler’s blood. Katherine removes the head of a bearded man, shoulders heaving as she searches for any more dead. Jack is bending down and wiping his long knife off on a younger woman’s dress. Everyone seems fine.
okurrrr come through action
My social calendar is always full at Miss Preston’s, and the number of fine folks I meet really is a credit to the education I am receiving here. It’s true that being a Negro has its drawbacks, but I couldn’t tell you what they are—that’s how happy I am being taught my place here at Miss Preston’s. I may not ever get to be a debutante, but catering to the fine white women of Baltimore is a far more worthy endeavor.
I really want to know what's tea with these lying ass letters she send to her mama
“No, ma’am,” Katherine says, a smile breaking out over her face, making her look like an angel from a painting. My anger and disgust grows a little more, fed by a mean streak of envy. I grit my teeth and say nothing. Katherine didn’t pick the face she was born with, and it ain’t her fault her perfect smile makes me want to break things. My dark feelings are my own problem, and I aim to keep them that way.
real hater energy, I get it lolol
Rachel couldn’t help the way she was, that she’d had a hard life before she came to Rose Hill, and the only way she knew how to act was a vicious kind of way. “Surviving can make people right mean,”
big facts
Momma, I do believe that the manners and etiquette taught at Miss Preston’s may be some of the best instruction in the whole state of Maryland, if not all of the United States. Honestly, where else do Negro girls get to truly learn their place: serving the fine white folks of the world and keeping them safe?
chile...
A jab of jealousy hits me every time I look over at her. She looks like some kind of delicious confection. Nobody needs to be that pretty,
Jane is such a hater lol
Mr. Redfern continues. “I don’t like you because you’re arrogant and self-important. You could be so much better than you are, but you’re too selfish to see it.”
but who TF are you ?!
The mayor laughs. “Such fire! I do admire the Negro’s ability to continue fighting even in the face of overwhelming odds.”
“No, suh,” I say, my words slow and deliberate. “I jes like to look at the pictures, if’n that’s okay.”
Jane really be on that bs
Despite his kindness, this man is just like the rest of his kind: polite until you tell them no.
The sound of that many voices raised in song brings goose bumps to my arms.
I shove my anger down, burying it deep, letting it temper my soul. Auntie Aggie always said the hard times make us stronger. If things continue like this, I will be nigh on invincible by the time I take my leave of Summerland.
shit
I ain’t waiting for an opportunity. I’m making one.
period
There ain’t a lick of hope in Summerland from what I can see, despite the advertising, and the drudgery of it all is enough to make a girl just lay down and die.
get my good sis out of Summerland !!
They believe the undead, like the Negro, were put here to serve whites, and that it’s our place to guide, but not to labor.
smh
Just as the Israelites left Egypt for the promise of a better life, so have all of you. But for that harmony to be achieved, each of us must know his place. You don’t let a dog pretend to be a horse, and the same it must be with our dark cousins. There is a natural order to things, as the pastor tells us, and when that order is not obeyed, disaster rides hard on its heels.”
I need this mf to DIE
My heart flops like a trout on a riverbank. Here’s a thing about me: I have always been a complete and utter muttonhead for a clever boy, even when I’m half delirious with pain.
same, Jane, same
For the sheriff to believe that Katherine is a lady, he needs to believe that I’m her faithful companion. A month ago, it would’ve been a hard sell. But my time in Summerland has most definitely changed that, and I am willing to pretend to be just about anything in order to win my freedom from this place.
starvation and violence will do that
. . . My vision goes dark as I imagine taking my fists to the sheriff’s face, pounding away until it loses shape and resembles nothing more than a mound of meat. I blink quickly, clearing the savage vision, a sick feeling settling in my middle.
KILL HIMMMMMMM JANE
The man runs off and the sheriff turns back to the group. “You colored folks can avail yourselves of the bladed weapons. I see you even touch a rifle I’m going to have you put down.” It’s nice to know that even Summerland’s impending doom doesn’t make the sheriff change his mind about giving Negroes a fighting chance. Still, something is better than nothing.
it's time for the sheriff to DIE
I pass Bill on my way. I give him my best smile and he stops. “What’re you grinning about?” “I want my penny back, Bill.” He chuckles mirthlessly. “You ain’t getting it. Besides, you got bigger things to fret about. I’d bet you won’t last till morning.” “I will. And when I do, I’m going to march right back here and take what’s mine. You got my promise on that.” Bill gives me a hard look. “Keep walking, you crazy-ass coon.”
yea, get him next !!
“Of course.” She takes the tinkerer’s arm and after a brief hesitation I stomp along behind them, fervently wishing I’d been born with golden skin and flaxen-streaked curls instead of hair like sheep’s wool and skin the color of dirt. It’s a completely irrational thought, but it’s hard knowing that my life could be much better had I only been born looking a bit more like my momma.
not Gideon making Jane wish she was white for a little more attention... oh naw
There’s a long pause and then a wheezing sound, like someone is choking on a hard candy. “What the hell is that?” “Language, Jane,” Katherine says. “And I do believe that sound is the sheriff laughing.” “I am indeed having a good chuckle.
lolol not her saying what the hell is that at him laughing adjfhaskdhfkjsdhfsa
“I worry about your immortal soul, Jane.” I flash her a toothsome grin. “Ain’t you got enough real world problems to keep you busy?”
lmao I love Jane!
It is utter chaos. Men and women run here and there, seemingly aimless, while shamblers walk the street leisurely, grasping for whoever gets close. Most of these shamblers are old and barely holding together: men in wool uniforms missing limbs, women in full dresses that are decades out of fashion, Negroes wearing the wretched uniforms of the old plantations, boys and girls who drag themselves along, tiny nightmares in their own right. Here and there is someone unexpected, a man dressed in the heavy garb of a fur trapper, an Indian woman with long dark hair wearing the rough homespun of white
...more
terrifying
Either way, I am many things, a murderess just happens to be one of them. It’s not something I think about all that much, and now I have two more dead men on my soul. I’ll be fine. I’m an excellent liar. Even to myself.
I love Jane, DOWN
Is there really such a thing as home when it’s so easily destroyed?
QTNA
