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Ah, my daughter,ʺ he said. ʺEighteen, and already youʹve been accused of murder, aided felons, and acquired a death count higher than most guardians will ever see.ʺ He paused. ʺI couldnʹt be prouder.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Higher
Guardian
Already
Acquired
Death
Accused
Prouder
Ever
Count
Felons
Murder
Aided
Daughter
Guardians
Sacrifice
Paused
Couldn
Eighteen

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I stared. Canadian Satanists? You're sending me to a group of Canadian Satanists?
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Are you sleepwalking?' A voice asked behind me. I was testing dorm security, I said. It sucks.
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Sage,” Adrian declared. “These hands don’t do manual labor.
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That's smart. Once Sonya's able to talk, we'll need to move. He smiled. Sydney's turning into a battle mastermind. Hey, she's not in charge here, I teased. She's just a soldier. Right. He lightly brushed his fingers against my cheek. Sorry, Captain. General, I corrected, catching my breath at that brief touch.
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I’m still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy ever will. -Adrian-
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Ah, those two. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.
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It’s Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don’t try to understand it. Just roll with it.
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Life and death were so unpredictable. So close to each other. We existed moment to moment, never knowing who would be the next to leave this world.
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So. You’re saying my sister’s dressed like a prostitute
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There's a guy chasing me! I called as I headed out the door.
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Only what?” I asked. I could barely hear my own voice. He turned his gaze back to me, firm and unflinching. “Only… more human.” And that was it. All the anger and sorrow vanished. There was nothing in me. Nothing at all. I was empty. “Get out,” I said.
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Dmitri was at a total loss. It was a common reaction for people when I agreed to do something reasonable.
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It occurred to me that I was standing face to face with the hero of a love story nearly as dramatic as my own.
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Donʹt worry now about what you canʹt change. Rest when you can so youʹll be ready for tomorrowʹs battles
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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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Was it weird having a witch grandma? Scary? Was she always, like, threatening to cast spells if you were bad? Most of the time she just threatened to send me to my room. That doesn't sound so scary to me. That's because you haven't met her.
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If you try to turn me against Lissa one more time the stories are going to be about you bleeding because I'll have ripped your throat out!
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And after a while...I mean how do you choose? Who gets to live? Part of life is that...well, some people have to die.
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Surely I must be a princess in an enchanted sleep. Any day now, this dream-no, nightmare would end, and I’d get my prince and happy ending.
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How do you know it was the blighted pile? Did you recognize Maiwenn’s gift?” “No, but there was a marble bust of Dorian in there, which I figured must have been his kingdom’s ‘humble’ gift.
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