“The taste of rotting, waxen oranges slid across my tongue, paying no attention to the fact that I was chewing on a wad of spearmint gum. Gran called it arrah-an aura. I was calling it danger candy nowadays. I always felt like spitting it out, but spitting would only make it worse.Plus, spitting on a dance floor is damn rude. I was raised better.”
“This is how I know blood is meaningless family connections are a lot like old gum -you don't have to keep chewing. You can always spit it out and stick it under the table. You can walk away.”
“At the moment I was mad enough to chew up nails and spit out paper clips.”
“Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.”
“Pain comes at me and I take it, chew it for a few minutes, and spit it back out. It's just not my thing anymore.”
“How does it taste?” Carter wondered.Zia smiled. “Stick out your tongue.”To answer Carter’s question, the tattoo tasted like burning car tires.“Ugh.” I spit a blue gob of “order and harmony” into the fountain.”