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Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead. Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it. As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.
Cinda Williams Chima
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Cinda Williams Chima
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Springfield
Ohio
Sleep
Gently
Stung
Eyes
Listened
Sank
Dies
Sleeping
Forbid
Eye
Knees
Bench
Next
Golden
Forehead
Anything
Dare
Strands
Ever
Tears
Benches
Hair
Foreheads
Raked
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Plus he was naturally lucky at cards. As Mam had always said, lucky at cards, or lucky at life. One or the other. Not both.
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You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.
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That's what happens when you love someone... you notice and notice and notice.
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(A)ny time you buy weapons, or build an army, you begin to look for an excuse to use them. Plus, you pose more of a threat to others.
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It was one of the warm nights at the end of summer that makes promises that won't be kept.
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I need to go to parties, Raisa mused, so I don't think so much.
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And it's not just a matter of you hurting me. I will hurt you too, even if I don't want to, I'm not the girl you think I am. And you will remember this conversation , and wish that you'd listened to me.
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He would find a way to make it work, because he finally understood that sometimes you have to raise your expectations. And sometimes you need to make a claim on the world and the people you love to get what you most desire
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The time will come when you will be forced to make a choice,” Hanalea said. “When that time comes, choose love.
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His aster-blue eyes shown out from a face blackened by bruises and soot, his fair hair glittering in the firelight. Dressed all in black, silhouetted against flame, he looked rather like a demon, raised from the dead, trading for souls on the other side.
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A fiction writer is never entirely alone. Her characters are constantly whispering in her ear.
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Just because you're the enemy of my enemy don't mean you're my friend, Han thought.
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A vocation is not something you slap on, like a coat of paint, and change whenever you want. A vocation is built into you. You have no choice. If you try to do something else, you fail.
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I have lost everything, Han thought. Then he corrected himself. Every time I think I’ve lost everything, I find there’s still something else to lose.
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One more thing: Linda, can you get to Canterbury and take over my Chaucerian Society? They're at Dovecote Hostelry in the old city. We're visiting all the scenes of the great murders. Tomorrow they want to see where Becket was killed. They're a bloodthirsty lot, it seems.
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It was a peculiar marriage of interests- Lord Averill and Captain Byrne and Lord Bayar and Han Alister agreeing on anything was as rare as gold in Ragmarket.
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There's something about a roof isn't there? It makes you feel like it doesn't matter what's going on below. All of those things that get in the way of your dreams - you're above them. Anything is possible.
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Well now, Jack, Hastings said from the sidelines. I'm afraid you've been beheaded. Not a good start. He sounded amused.
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He swept Raisa up into his arms and kissed her like it was his first, last, and only
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Han made no effort to put up a brave front. Most of the time he just screamed himself hoarse, though a couple of times he amused himself by screaming Fionas's name as if he were in the throes of passion. FEEE-OHHH-NAAA! Lord Bayar made him pay for that, but afterward, Fiona didn't come down anymore, which Han appreciated.
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