Pyke All Quotes

You need a load of those yellow sticky papers to tattoo no trespassing over his ass, because, seriously, I'm all out.

Good," said Jack, "because if you get any closer to that car in front, the driver'll be sticking up a sign asking you to climb up through the back window and give him head before you fuck him up the ass, is all.

you don’t have to go vegan all at once. Veganism isn’t an on off switch. It’s more of a journey. It is fine to come to it gradually, one meal at a time. If you want, start with trying to stick to it once or twice a week and scale up from there. Every so often you'll back slide. That’s alright. As long as the road continues onward and upward, you have nothing to be ashamed of. After all, by embarking on this adventure you’re already doing more than most.

There are five pounds of undigested red meat in the average American’s gut. The digestive system was not built for this and can’t cope with this much meat. The meat actually begins to break down and decay. This causes the release of high amounts of nitrogen and other nasty chemical enzymes. What’s more, if this was all natural meat that would be one thing. But it isn’t. Almost all meat we consume nowadays has been injected full of growth hormones, antibiotics and steroids. What’s more, the fodder the slaughter animals eat is full of pesticides, which collect in their meat tissue. And when we eat meat, all these things collect in us, where they compromise our immune system and degrade our health.

Edging,” said Gray. “The ability to keep a sub in a heightened state of sexual arousal. Or in Jack terms: basic fucking self-control.” All humour had gone from his voice.

I’d say perfectly balanced, but just fucking fuckable was all that came to mind around Gray. “Cosy.

Will you allow Gray to re-Master you, Jack?” Name the time, date, place, and I’d be there, saddle thrown over shoulder, cowboy hat on, naked, willing to ride the rough until he stopped bucking through exhaustion, but for all of the smart-ass answers I could have used, “Please,” was the only breathed reply I managed.

Gray, wearing nothing but a Santa’s hat, a black one, with BDSM badass printed on it? You holding a Santa, please stop here sign next to your ass, all wide-eyed, expectant, and on your knees?” Jack

There was this element to Gray, the part that always forced you to avoid his eyes at all costs. He could steal your soul with a look, necromance it, strip it bare, all to run it through his fingers, untangle the strands, then hand it back with a smile knowing every fault and flaw about you. “I’m

All kidding aside…” I focus back on Pyke, genuine sincerity in my tone. “Thank you…for everything. For dragging my ‘clueless ass’ through the ocean, and over hill and vale, when you knew it was futile and stupid—but that I’d still try to do it, with or without your help. Thanks for tracking me down when I was alone and helpless; and for giving me a voice when I thought all hope was lost—” “Ugh, for crying out loud…Enough already,” Pyke squirms, a nauseated grimace twisting his hairy face. “Now you’re going way overboard with the gratitude…That kind of gushy crap is meant to be dished out in small doses,” he gripes. “Please make it stop…before I have to snap my own neck, just to end the suffering.” He backs away into the crowd, giving Tristan’s shoulder one more slap with a sly wink. “Hurry up, Man, and do something. Kiss her, muzzle her…shove a sock in her mouth—

was struck suddenly that I wasn’t talking to a complete personality. The way the accent bopped around from era to era, the bizarre switches in motive and behavior. This wasn’t Henry Pyke, or even Mr. Punch, this was like a patchwork, a personality cobbled together from half-remembered fragments. Maybe all ghosts were like this, a pattern of memory trapped in the fabric of the city like files on a hard drive—slowly getting worn away as each generation of Londoners laid down the pattern of their lives.