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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

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Firsts
Michael
First
Letting
Love
Foolish
Think
Thank
Dowager
Thinking
Thanks
Countess
Son
Janet
Hope
Earl
Also
Extend

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James - Are you paying attention or just trying to make me look like an idoit? Elizabeth - Oh, I'm definately paying attention. If you look like an idiot it has nothing to do with me.
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He gave her his best smile. His best I-almost-died-so-how-can-you-deny-me smile. Or at least that’s how he hoped it appeared. The truth was, he wasn’t a very accomplished flirt, and it might very well have come across as an Iam- mildly-deranged-so-it’s-in-all-of-our-best-interests-if-youpretend- to-agree-with-me smile.
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Blake took a small roll from the tray on the table, then put it back in favor of a larger one. And maybe a little butter. It certainly couldn't hurt. And jam...no, he drew the line at jam. She was a spy, after all.
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To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.
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He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. Aren't you Spanish? She raised one arm in a salute. Viva la Queen Isabella! I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?
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I can imagine no greater bliss than to lie about, reading novels all day.
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He was the firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton eight times over. He had a dynastic responsibility to be fruitful and multiply.
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Not that I wish to give you any ammunition, but the sad fact of it is-most men are sheep. Where one goes, the rest will follow. And didn't you say you wished to be married?' 'Not to someone who follows you as the lead sheep.
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A lot could happen in a week. Just look at the last one.
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The only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth.' What about 'More, Gareth'? He almost kept a straith face. That will be acceptable.
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She was petite, small in that way that made a man want to slay dragons.
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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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I'm not a gentle pony... I promise you, you will have to work to keep your seat.
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She smelled like England, of soft rain and sun-kissed meadows. And she felt like the best kind of heaven. He wanted to wrap himself around, bury himself within her, and stay there for all of his days. He hadn’t had a drop to drink in three years, but he was intoxicated now, bubbling with a lightness he’d never thought to feel again.
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He was a puzzle. And Hyacinth hated puzzles. Well, no, in truth she loved them. Provided, of course, that she solved them.
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I didn't think I should die but I did not know how I would Live.
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Interesting, he later reflected, was perhaps not the correct word.By the time he and Henry arrived back at the house for their midday meal-a scrumptious bowl of hot, sticky porridge-he had mucked out the stable stalls, milked a cow, been pecked by three separate hens, weeded a vegetable garden, and fallen into a trough.
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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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For me, the dialogue is the easiest part of writing. It just always seems so obvious what a character will say. Maybe its because I talk too much!
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No words for the passion. No words for the need.No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment.And so, on an otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon, in the heart of Mayfair, in a quiet drawing room on Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.And it was glorious.
Julia Quinn