They all turned to the dark-haired woman standing quietly to the side and slightly behind Aunt Charlotte. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Everything about her was perfection, from her shiny hair to her milky-white skin. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and pink, and her eyelashes were so long that Honoria thought they must
touch her brows if she opened her eyes too wide.
“Well,” Honoria murmured to Iris, “at least no one will be looking at us.
Mots clés anne iris julia-quinn just-like-heaven honoria
Raw toast," Lucas said grimly, shaking his head. "It goes against the very nature of man.
Julia QuinnHonoria had a plan.
It had come to her in church that morning. (The ladies went; the gentlemen somehow managed to get out of it.) It wasn’t terribly complicated; she needed only a sunny day, a halfway acceptable sense of direction, and a shovel.
Mots clés julia-quinn just-like-heaven honoria
But when Anthony kissed her, she felt as
if she were losing her mind. And when he
kissed her twice, she wasn't even sure if she wanted it back!
Most people would have probably lost count around seven. This was, Harry knew
from his extensive reading on logic and arithmetic, the largest number that most people
could visually appreciate. Put seven dots on a page, and most people can take a quick
glance and declare, “Seven.” Switch to eight, and the majority of humanity was lost.
Mots clés humanity mathematics numbers 7 seven
I can’t help but think that if she was going to kill herself, she might as well have done it earlier. Perhaps when I was a toddler. Or better yet, an infant. It certainly would have made my life easier. I asked my uncle Hugh (who is not really my uncle, but he is married to the stepsister of my current mother’s brother’s wife and he lives quite closeand he’s a vicar) if I would be going to hell for such a thought. He said no, that frankly, it made a lot of sense to him. I do think I prefer his parish to my own.
Julia QuinnMots clés suicide fun irony amanda
You are always looking at people like this.” And then she made a face, one he couldn’t possibly begin to describe.
“If I ever look like that,” he said dryly, “precisely like that, to be more precise, I give you leave to shoot me.
Watch over Honoria, will you? See that she doesn’t marry an idiot.
Julia QuinnMots clés humor friends love brothers
The youngest one,” she interrupted. “The youngest son, I mean. The one who is unmarried.”
“I know who he is.”
“Very well, then. What is wrong with him?” At that she cocked her head to the side and waited expectantly.
He thought for a moment. “Nothing.”
“You—wait.” She blinked. “Nothing?”
He shook his head, then shifted his weight a little; his good foot was beginning to fall asleep. “Nothing comes immediately to mind.” It was true. She could do a good deal worse than Gregory Bridgerton.
“Really?” she asked suspiciously. “You find nothing at all objectionable about him.”
Marcus pretended to think about this a bit longer. Clearly he was supposed to be playing a role here, probably that of the villain. Or if not that, then the grumpy old man. “I suppose he’s a bit young,” he said.
Mots clés humor friends marriage
Caroline Trent hadn't meant to shoot Percival Prewitt, but she had, and now he was dead.
Or at least she thought he was dead.
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