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I didn't think my day could get any worse until my best friend told me she might be going crazy. Again.
Richelle Mead
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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
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Michigan
United States
Crazy
Didn
Best
Might
Going
Think
Worse
Thinking
Friend
Told
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Hey, Volusian, you haven't been checking me out, have you? He gave me his trademark bland stare. I assure you, mistress, the only allure your bare flesh has for me is to remind me how easy it will be to slice open. I laughed. If not for the fact he was actually serious, he'd be so much fun.
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Adrian sighed. I knew you staying out of trouble was too good to be true.
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For a moment his eyes locked onto me with an intensity that left me breathless.
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Is it true? You had a clean getaway and risked it all for me? I Swallowed. It wouldn't have been a clean getaway without you.
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So,” I said at last, staring at my hands. “How’s, uh, your car?” “I left it out on the street. Figured it’ll be fine there while I’m gone.
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The greatest and most powerful revolutions often start very quietly, hidden in the shadows. Remember that.
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You're a Dhampir, I breathed. So are you. he teased. Yeah, but I just thought— That I was human? Because of the bite marks? Yeah. I admitted, No point in lying. We all have to survive, he said And dhamphirs are good at figuring ways out to.
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I'm sorry. Be sorry you lied, he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.
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Nah, you always look good. As for me … well, it's hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There's so much sorrow around here. You can't even begin to understand. It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It's overwhelming. It makes your dark aura downright cheerful.
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The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically – yet skillfully – kissing you on top of silverware and china?
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Eddie became about one percent less tense.
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Who... who are you?' I asked at last. It was true. I had left a body in the park, but seriously, what was I supposed to do? Drag him back to my hotel and tell my bellhop my friend had had too much to drink?
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What am I supposed to do with a wool coat? Especially here in Palm Springs?” “Sleep with it,” he suggested. “Think of me.
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Can you come over to Amberwood? I need you to help me break curfew and escape my dorm.” There were a few moments of silence. “Sage, I’ve been waiting two months to hear you say those words. You want me to bring a ladder?
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She didn't understand what it was like to be filled with a love so strong that it made your chest ache—a love you could only feel and not express. Keeping love buried was a lot like keeping anger pent up, I'd learned. It just ate you up inside until you wanted to scream or kick something.
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