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Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating. Butch
J.R. Ward
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J.R. Ward
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Butch
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More quotes by J.R. Ward
No stonger allies no greater friends no bigger fighters of honor could a king behould then these assembled afore me mine brothers mine blood
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Uh-huh, right. Let me count all the ways you and I aren't going there.
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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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She nodded, wondering why couldn't she have been named Mary. Or Sue. Butno , she had to be nine-letter Elizabeth.
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So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.
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Blay was the closest thing to an angel Qhuinn had ever come near.
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That's the problem with white horses. You have to pay for them yourself or you'll always be using someone else's reins.
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He [Vishous] was all need, no ease.
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She was seriously staring. Which was what you did when you got a gander at a man who is hung like a Louisville Slugger.
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Chaos and love when hand in hand and oh, the glorious grace of the world because of it.
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You going to try the rest of your gear on? he asked on an exhale. Or you want to whine about your pants a little more? Don't make me flip you off. Why would I deprive you of a favorite hobby? [Vishous to Butch]
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All right, then, her first rule for the rest of her days: no more looking outside for definitions. She might not have any clue who she was, but better to be lost and searching than shoved into a social box by someone else.
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As her eyes scanned his face, he feared that she saw everything, right down t the core of him. Where his obsession with her was the strongest. -Butch and Marissa
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Is he Catholic? her grandmother asked on the way out. He's a drug dealer -- so if he is religious, he's got incredible powers of reconciliation. He looks like a good boy, her vovo said over her shoulder. A good Catholic boy. And that was that -- for now.
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This place is just too frickin precious, the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit.
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I cannae believe you let me touch you.” His voice grew hoarse. “I shall remember this for all my nights.” Tears speared into her eyes. Dearest Virgin Scribe, for all her life, she had waited for a moment like this…. “Do not cry.” His thumb went to her cheeks. “Beautiful female of worth, do not cry.
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Time keeps on... slippin'... slippin'... slippin' into the future.
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From one king to another, know that I'm giving you the middle finger right now. And he was, with a smile.
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He tasted each one of them. The raw power and majesty of Wrath. The vast strength of Rhage. The burning, protective loyalty of Phury. The cold savagery of Zsadist. The sharp cunning of Vishous.
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Payne nailing him in the face woke him up. George brought him back his independence. But Beth handed him his crown.
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