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The thread of will-they-or-won't-they was the real driver of every word and glance and shift of body. So...this was a date, Blay thought. A subtextual negotiation slipcovered in talk of books read and music enjoyed.
J.R. Ward
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J.R. Ward
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More quotes by J.R. Ward
Perfect date material, she thought. A vampire with the social equivalent of road rage. ---Beth about Wrath
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I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.
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Gallows humor is part of having a doctor in the house. Deal with it.
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Man, some open doors were not welcoming, and that was so the case here—less hi-how’re-ya, more come-in-so-your-skin-can-be-used-to-make-a-super-hero-cape-for-one-of-Hannibal-Lecter’s-patients.
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There aren't any syringes. Red Sox came over and held a sterile pack out. When she tried to take it from him, he kept a grip on the thing. I know you'll use this wisely. Wisely? She snapped the syringe out of his hand. No, I'm going to poke him in the eye with it. Because that's what they trained me to do in medical school.
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...Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch. It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel.
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Sometimes your whole life could hinge on a fraction of an inch. Or the beat of a nanosecond. Or the knock on a door.
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Yeah, but going by that cold tone of voice, she had to wonder whether the best-laid plans of mice and vampires, blah, blah, blah...
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God, I miss you, he said in a voice that cracked. Every night. Every day.
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He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.
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