?贵州11选5

Courting Darkness (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #10) A Million Suns (Across the Universe #2)

Bullshit! Josh roared. I did your dirty work! That’s all you wanted. You lied to me, used me. Josh’s face grew redder with every word he hissed. Promised me we’d leave this shithole town! And here you are with him—the man you say you despise, the man you wanted in prison! Josh was inches from her face now.

Bring Oliver in to me when you leave.My sister was moving to Harmony, and it was about time I went to see what the little town was about. I left the kitchen and made a call.

Echoes at Dawn (KGI #5)

Caleb answered on the first ring. Hey, it’s early.I’m picking you up Friday night at 6 PM. Make sure we have something of interest to do in that hometown of yours.Hell yeah! I’ll set it up. The call ended, and I headed to my studio.

The Sassy One (Marcelli #2)

Where the hell was I going? The interstate exit had led to a long country road with nothing except bare trees and a ratty fence that became more dilapidated the farther I drove. This was where Julia wanted to live? Perhaps a drug test was in order.Just the thought of my sister set my nerves on edge. Now that she had our mother’s support and a meaningless job lined up, she thought she was set. But she’d be calling for my help after a month in this new place.

The town’s still a few miles ahead, Caleb explained from the passenger seat, glancing up from his phone. He’d been texting on it for most of the drive.

I turned down the radio, the chatter of the DJ poking at my aggravation. Or maybe it was the nagging sense that I was going to be sorely disappointed with my night.These are the midwives for Union County now. All heads turn to look. If there was anything you ever planned to do for Grace Potts someday, then do it for them. If you owed anything to her, you can pay back the girls. I’m sure Mrs. Potts would approve. I almost laugh at the reference to us as girls. My companion may be young, but I’ll be thirty-seven by the end of the year. Bitsy pulls me back down, and I plunk into my seat, feeling my face beet red. Still, it’s a generous and unexpected thing for the Millers to do.

When the service is over and Mrs. Potts is laid to rest, the church ladies arrange food on wooden picnic tables under the trees. I prepare my plate of greens, fried chicken, potato salad, and baked beans and plan to sit next to Bitsy or maybe at the table with Becky Myers and the Stengers, but when I look around Bitsy is sitting with Byrd Bowlin on a blanket under the trees and the table with Becky and the others is full. I’m wondering where to go when Mr. Maddock beckons me over to a green wooden table where he’s already served both himself and his wife. I sit down on the bench across from him, expecting one of them to say hello, but they’re mum. Maybe I’m supposed to start the conversation.I’m Patience Murphy, I announce, turning to Mrs. Maddock.

The Duke and I (Bridgertons #1)

I know. She smiles. She has a nice voice like a motion picture star. I’m Sarah Rose Maddock. You should come for tea someday.And your friend. That surprises me. Bitsy has slowly been accepted in the bedrooms of white women, as my birth assistant, but no one has ever asked us for tea.

We’d be delighted, I accept formally.Maddock is already standing. Enough of the pleasantries, his rangy body says. He adjusts his suspenders and pushes his Sunday farmer’s hat down firmly over his thinning dark hair, then takes both their plates and places them in their woven picnic basket. I have to get home to milk, he announces, though we both know it’s way too early. Do you need a ride?

No, thank you. I have my horse.Mrs. Maddock nods good-bye as he bumps her wheelchair across the grass and out to their truck on the dirt road. I look around again for Bitsy. She’s still sitting with Byrd, their thighs touching, her hand on her cheek, listening carefully to something he’s saying.

I’m contemplating getting on my mare and leaving without her when Samantha, the church soloist, comes over, still carrying Twyla’s baby, Mathew, and pushing two shy pregnant girls in front of her, one coffee-colored and one ebony. She stops and introduces them as Harriet and Sojourner Perry, her nieces. Harriet, the smaller of the two, is sucking her thumb. Twyla stands with them, arm in arm.I know where you got your names, I tell the girls. They look up from their white Sunday shoes. I do. I bet Harriet is for Harriet Tubman, the ex-slave who risked her life to lead over three hundred others to freedom, and Sojourner for Sojourner Truth, the famous black orator who stood for women’s and Negroes’ rights.

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