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Three weeks hadn't changed Cop Central. The coffee was still poisonous, the noise abominable, and the view out of her stingy window was still miserable. She was thrilled to be back.
Nora Roberts
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Nora Roberts
Age: 74
Born: 1950
Born: October 10
Author
Businessperson
Legal Secretary
Novelist
Philanthropist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Silver Spring
Maryland
Eleanor Marie Robertson
Jill March
Eleanor Marie Robertson Aufdem-Brinke Wilder
J. D. Robb
Sarah Hardesty
Eleanor Wilder
Changed
Weeks
Week
Central
Futuristic
Three
Miserable
Abominable
Stills
Noise
Stingy
Still
Coffee
Thrilled
Back
Window
Poisonous
View
Cop
Views
Hadn
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People who say not to speak ill of the dead are hypocrites, because you can take it ot the bank they're thinking ill.
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It's an exceptional thing to have someone in your life who knows and understands you so well. Who loves who you are. A very exceptional thing.
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Once you considered failure you were one step farther away from success.
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Don't say hit and mountain in the same sentence.
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The man's got more money than God, and he sends you a bag of coffee?
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A kiss isn't terminal. It is the way you do it.
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You--Roarke. Eyes watering, she reached for more tissue. Jesus, Eve. Jesus Christ, you never sleep with anybody. And you're telling me you slept with Roarke? That's not precisely accurate. We didn't sleep.
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Because when you hate something, you stop doing it.
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Have McNab take the edge if you need one. Can he handle bad cop? He does it really well during personal role-playing games when I'm the reluctant witness.
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You have to trust or you're only living half a life.
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Why couldn't the merciful God turn down the sunlight so it wasn't blasting like a red furnace against his aching eyes? Because he'd worshipped the god of beer, thats why. He'd broken a commandment and worshipped the false and foamy god of beer. And now he was being punished.
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There was nothing like a Saturday - unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.
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Damn me to hell or take me to heaven, but for Gods sake, do it now.
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You're going to blow his socks off!
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Action, reaction, motivation, emotion, all have to come from the characters. Writing a love scene requires the same elements from the writer as any other.
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I'd suggest putting your head between your knees, but I think that's physically impossible for you at the moment.
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No. No, I don't believe you'd betray me with her. I don't believe you'd cheat on me. But I'm afraid, and I'm sick in my heart that you might look at her, then at me. And regret.
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...those who love suffer when who they love suffers.
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I think those who have impact and influence over us are often unaware.
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Earrings are like orgasms. You can never have too many. I never thought about it quite that way. Well, you're a man. She gave his knee a friendly pat.
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