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Half condemn him and write him off as useless like him dad. The other half just shrug and indulge him and say, ‘Well, that’s Adrian.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Well
Adrian
Writing
Condemn
Like
Indulge
Useless
Dad
Half
Write
Wells
Shrug

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And besides . . . I don’t want to leave you. Er, you guys.” He smiled, and it lit up his whole face. “Well, ‘we’ are certainly happy to hear that. Oh, and I’m also happy to watch our darling little love child dragon while you’re in St. Louis.” I grinned back.
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I stared. Canadian Satanists? You're sending me to a group of Canadian Satanists?
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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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Plus, I was about to spend six weeks with Christian Ozera. He was sarcastic, difficult, and made jokes about everything. Actually, he was a lot like me. It was going to be a long six weeks.
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I unfolded the note, and it took me a few seconds to decipher Adrian’s writing. If he did write me a dating proposal, I really hoped he would type it.
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You’ll have your own superhero club before you know it.
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People who are crazy rarely question whether they're crazy.
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Okay, so. You, Belikov, the Alchemist, Sonya Karp, Victor Dashkov, and Robert Doru are all hanging out in West Virginia together.” “No,” I said. “No?” “We’re, uh, not in West Virginia.
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Takes a lot of tries before you hit perfection. He paused to reconsider that. Well, except for my parents. They got it on the first try. (Adrian)
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She didnʹt know if she could carry on by herself, but then, she realized that if this wasnʹt a dream—and dear God, did it feel real—there was no magic ʺstopʺ in real life. If she couldnʹt deal with loneliness in a dream, she never would be able to while waking.
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Adrian's face was the picture of perfect politeness and restraint, meaning something disastrous was about to happen.
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It'd be nice to have someone who understood some of the things that went on in my head.
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I had a standing arrangement with God: I'd agree to believe in him—barely—so long as he let me sleep in on Sundays.
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I sighed and stared off without any particular focus. I miss him so much. I'm sorry, she said. Will it ever get better? The question seemed to catch her by surprise. I...I don't know.
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Adrian looked away from me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. “Sorry” I’d probably freaked him out
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Have you ever wanted to put on a Santa suit? I have always wanted to do that, said Carter gravely.
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I can understand bitchiness in any language.
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You shook his hand? Adrian asked incredulously … “With all that red-hot passion, it’s a wonder you guys can stay away from each other
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