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I swear to God, if I get shot again, Indigo will strangle me.
Nalini Singh
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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Strangle
Swear
Shot
Shots
Indigo
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And if she fell, he'd fall with her.
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Part of you is the wind,” he murmured. “Oui, that is true. But even the wind sometimes rests.” Shaking her head, she slid her hand around the back of his neck, soaking in the intrinsically male heat of his skin. “Then consider me an endless storm.
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Taking a sip of the hot chocolate he'd made her, she met his gaze, those eerie eyes of endless black impenetrable, unreadable. Max? Yes? Will you remember me? His heart broke into a thousand pieces. Always.
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There was a perfection to the moment that made Sienna think: Yes, this is it. This is who we're meant to be together.
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No,” he responded, reaching out to trace the shell of her ear. “They grew back even more beautiful. Blue edged with silver.” Elena laughed at the scowl in his voice.
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Love, he thought as he held her to his heart, was an agony beyond compare.
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You can run,” Dorian said in a neutral tone that did nothing to lessen the intensity of his expression, “but sooner or later, you run out of places to run to.
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Where did you learn your charm—the gulag?
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Max cuffed his brother good-naturedly on the ear as River slid in past him and bent to kiss Sophia on the cheek. “Hello, are you sure you’re with the right brother?” Sophia had never had a younger sibling. But this man with his laughing eyes and bright smile... “Are you making me an offer?
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There is one—how would you put it—loophole.” “Loophole? More like a giant cavern if I have wings.
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You have the power to tear me to pieces, to wound me so deep and true that I'll never recover. What Rissa's death did to the boy I was? You have the ability to do a thousand times worse to the man I've become.
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Voles-tu, mon petit papillon.” Illium laughed at Galen’s instruction to “fly, little butterfly
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Lifting her head, she joined in as the others in the group began to howl in response to Brace's triumph. The sound was . . . It touched the soul, the music haunting, starkly pure and yet so very earthy.
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Fathers and mothers,” she found herself saying, “leave their mark, no matter if we’ve known them a lifetime or only a day.
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Blood for life. Life for life. Changeling justice.
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Take her to the kitchen,” came the order. “If she lies, throw her in the cauldron. “He was jesting about the cauldron, wasn’t he? You cannot have a cauldron big enough for a person?” Bard halted, sighed, looked at her with those wide, liquid eyes.“We,” he said, “have knives.
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That works fine for me . . . Sienna Lauren Snow.
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To fight is to face death once more, perhaps the total annihilation of their kind. But to run... is that not also a kind of annihilation?
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