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The weight of the dead was heavier than the pounds of the body.
J.R. Ward
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J.R. Ward
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More quotes by J.R. Ward
G'on now.' he murmured with that Southern drawl. 'Lie on back and let me take care of you. I promise to go slow...real slow.' - Issac Rothe, Crave
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But every once in a while, from out of the blue, someone reaches the quiet place where you spend your private time and changes the way you see yourself
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Darkness will never take me... because I have you. Light of my life, Marissa. That's what you are. -Butch and Marissa
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Great rationalizations. All of which her adrenal gland middle-fingered and then carried right on.
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Qhuinn wanted to scream... Yes he has!!!
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I'll call you, Manny said. You do that, my man. You frickin' do that. -Manny to V
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Wellsie frowned. I'd like you to stay away from him, okay? He's...not right in a lot of ways. Do you know what I mean? Actually, John wasn't so sure about that. Yeah, the guy was enough to make you think fondly of the boogeyman sometimes, but clearly he wasn't all bad.
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Man, you cannot be real, the human said softly. Why not? You just can't. She laughed a little. Well, I am. He cleared his throat again. Offered her a lopsided grin. Mind if I ask you to prove it? How? Can I touch your hair?
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What brings you onto my property? Rhev said, cradling his mug with both hands trying to absorb its warmth. Got a problem I can't fix your personality, sorry
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Still, it would have been great, just once, to have a man stare at her with total adoration. To have him be... enthralled. Yes, that was the word. She would have loved for a man to be enthralled by her.
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To his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.
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Come to think of it, that word (choice) shouldn't be applied to people's destinies. Ever. Choice should be relegated to TV and meals: You could choose NBC over CBS or steak instead of chicken. But take the concept any further than the stove or the remote control and the word just didn't apply. - V
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To be denied was like getting shut out of a Public Park.
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Word of advice. These have a kick, so don’t suck too hard—” Holy hypoxia, Batman.
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Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me.
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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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Otherwise, three little words would have leaked from his mouth. And undoubtedly doomed him in ways he couldn’t even guess at. Bad time. Bad place. For that kind of thing. Forever.
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Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.
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End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for home.
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