The Caraval Complete Trilogy (Caraval, #1-3)

by Stephanie Garber

He tasted like exquisite nightmares and stolen dreams, like the wings of fallen angels, and bottles of fresh moonlight.

‘I’ve never wanted to be someone else until that moment I saw him kiss you on the dance floor.’ ‘You should have asked me to dance first.’ ‘I will, next time.’

Ahhhhh

Tella pictured the word good withering next to Dante. Good was the word people used to describe how they slept at night and bread fresh out of the fire. But Dante was more like the fire. No one called a fire good. Fires were hot, burning things children were warned not play with.

The coat was the rich royal color of blackberries – a shade she’d never seen him in.

Bro wtf the color of blackberries??? Are you fkng kidding me? Im so fed up with this shit