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And for the rest of the night, he couldn’t quite forget the smell of her perfume. Or maybe it was the soft sound of her chuckle. Or maybe it was neither of those things. Maybe it was just her.
Julia Quinn
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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Maybe
Chuckles
Forget
Perfume
Soft
Sound
Smell
Night
Neither
Things
Couldn
Rest
Quite
Chuckle
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I have thoroughly compromised your niece, Alex declared. Will you plase insist that she marry me? Caroline didn't bat an eyelash. This, she announced, is most peculiar.
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To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.
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I’m not certain you’d know the right sort of man for you if he arrived on our doorstep riding an elephant.” “I would think the elephant would be a fairly good indication that I ought to look elsewhere.
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I can imagine no greater bliss than to lie about, reading novels all day.
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Do I look like a mess?” she asked. He nodded. “But you’re my mess,” he whispered.
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She was petite, small in that way that made a man want to slay dragons.
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He wondered if she'd mind if he threw her down on the blanket and tore off her clothing. (..) She looked heartbreakingly innocent. Alex sighed. She'd probably mind.
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To say that men can be bullheaded would be insulting to the bull.
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He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it, of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned... ...But how could he manage to burn her dress? She'd have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself.
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Everyone has secrets. Especially me.
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Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Cousin‟s Wife. Moses must have forgotten to write that one down
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She had been born for this man, and she had spent so many years trying to accept the fact that he had been born for someone else.
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She tried to remind herself that beauty was only skin deep, but that didn't offer any helpful excuses when she was berating herself for never knowing what to say to people. There was nothing more depressing than an ugly girl with no personality.
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If he was planning to attack and ravish, he gave no indication of being in a hurry to do so.
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Tell me something wicked.
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And I hope you will not think me foolish when I also extend my thanks. Thank you, Michael, for letting my son love her first. —from Janet Stirling, dowager Countess of Kilmartin, to Michael Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin
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Don't settle. Know what you want and reach for it. And if you don't know what you want, be patient. The answers will come to you in time, and you may find that your heart s desire has been right under your nose all the while.
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Have you seen Frances?” He tilted his head to the right. “I believe she’s off rooting about in the bushes.” Anne followed his gaze uneasily. “Rooting?” “She told me she was practicing for the next play.” Anne blinked at him, not following. “For when she gets to be a unicorn.” “Oh, of course.” She chuckled. “She is rather tenacious, that one.
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Mother,” Hyacinth said with a great show of solicitude, “you know I love you dearly—” “Why is it,” Violet pondered, “that I have come to expect nothing good when I hear a sentence beginning in that manner?
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My love has eyes blue as the sky. Her warm, bright smile makes me want to try To give her the world, And when she's curled Up in my arms where I can feel her touch, I realize again that I love her so much. My world has turned from black to white. Kissing in starlight, basking in sunlight, dancing at midnight.' ~John's poem for Belle
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