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I personally believe Patch scared the pants off normal, and it took off running for the far side of the world.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
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Novelist
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Utah
Believe
Pants
World
Personally
Scared
Normal
Took
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Patch
Running
Patches
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Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.
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Right now, holding you, I feel like we have a shot at beating all odds and making it together.
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Light had a way of keeping the monsters of my imagination at bay.
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I want Scott to look at me the way Patch looks at you.
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Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.
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It’s so real. Most dreams are. It isn't until you wake up that you see all the plot holes.
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One more secret smile. One more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for.
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I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn't right. You haven't fooled everybody. I'm going to find out what you're up to. I'm going to expose you. Looking forward to it.
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I looked to the window. Patch was gone, but a single black feather was pressed to the outer pane, held in place by last night's rain. Or Angel Magic
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Listen, Patch, I don’t want to be rude, but—” “Sure you do.” “Well, you started it!” Lovely. Very mature.
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She shrieked. Nora! What happened to the banister! Good thing she hadn't seen her bedroom yet.
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I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower. He grinned, hopping off the bike. Now that is an invitation.
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What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and Patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the Big Deed.
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He nuzzles my neck affectionately. I love you. I'm happier right now than I ever remember being.
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Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.
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Don’t start. I saw Marcie climb inside your Jeep.” “She needed a ride.” I adopted a hands-on-hips pose. “What kind of ride?” “Not that kind of ride,” he said slowly.
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There's nothing special about losing your virginity over a toilet.
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Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?
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Are you keeping anything else from me?” “I’m keeping a lot of things from you.” “Like?” “Like the way I feel about being locked up in here with you. You have no idea what you do to me.
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