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She kissed me harder, breath huffing into my mouth, and bit my lip. Oh, hell that was amazing. I growled before I could stop myself.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Mouths
Lips
Amazing
Huffing
Harder
Growled
Bits
Kissed
Hell
Breath
Stop
Breaths
Mouth
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There was no other sound in the world like a car crash.
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Can I ask you a question? You already have. He paused, considering. Can I ask you two questions, then? You already have.
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My most memorable adventure was investigating the chalk cliffs in Yorkshire. While clambering over kelp-covered boulders half-covered by the sea, I fell and smashed my tail bone on one of them.
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We don't have time to be sad
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In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.
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Thery're both iron, isn't that funny? Funny haha or funny strange? James handed them back to me Funny 'occult' Ah. Funny strange James looked at me sternly, Don't start that. I'm supposed to be the humorous one
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I'll cook the water.
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- Tears don't become us. - What becomes us? - Action.
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The only thing is, the more I see him and Corr together, the more I think of how unbearable it would be for Sean to lose him. But we can't both win.
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It's like scrying into that weird space. There's so much coming out of him, it shouldn't be possible. Do you remember that woman who came in who was pregnant with quadruplets? It was like that, but worse. He's pregnant? Blue asked.
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He was struck by the details of the moment. This was something he needed to remember, when he dreamt. This feeling right here: heart thudding, pollen sticky on his fingertips, July pricking sweat at his breastbone, the smell of gasoline and someone else's charcoal grill.
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It was a life I didn’t want to leave behind.It was a life I didn’t want to forget.
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We sat like that for a long while, and when we stood up, all my sad things were in boxes, and Beck was my father.
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He cared for languages dead long enough that they wouldn’t change on him.
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Imagine my delight and awe when I discovered such a thing was a real genre - contemporary fantasy or urban fantasy. It was like having my birthday twice in one week and cookie dough for breakfast.
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Boys like him didn't die they got bronzed and installed outside public libraries.
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I never knew there were so many different ways to say good-bye.
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Grace: I picked up my sweater from the floor and crawled back into bed. Shoving my pillow aside, I balled up the sweater to use instead. I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face. It was almost like he was there.
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