“Oh my. He's English. "Er. Does Mer live here?" Seriously, I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent. The boy clears his throat. "Meredith Chevalier? Tall girl? Big, curly hair?" Then he looks at me like I'm crazy or half deaf, like my Nana Oliphant. Nanna just smiles and shakes her head whenever I ask, "What kind of salad dressing would you like?" or "Where did you put Granddad's false teeth?" "I'm sorry." He takes the smallest step away from me. "You were going to bed." "Yes! Meredith lives here. I've just spent two hours with her." I announce this proudly like my little brother, Seany, whenever he finds something disgusting in the yard. "I'm Anna! I'm new here!" Oh, [Gosh]. What. Is with. The scary enthusiasm? My cheeks catch fire, and it's all so humiliating. The beautiful boy gives an amused grin. His teeth are lovely - straight on top and crooked on the bottom, with a touch of overbite. I'm a sucker for smiles like this, due to my own lack of orthodontia. I have a gap between my front teeth the size of a raisin. "Étienne," he says. "I live one floor up." "I live here." I point dumbly at my room while my mind whirs: French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused. He raps twice on Meredith's door. "Well. I'll see you around then, Anna." Eh-t-yen says my name like this: Ah-na.”
―
Stephanie Perkins,
Anna and the French Kiss
“She rests her hand on the ruffled costume beside her. “Just answer this one question. My brother never got over you. Did you ever get over him?”I swallow. “There are some people in life that you can’t get over.”“Good.” Calliope stands and gives me a grim smile. “But break Cricket’s heart? I’ll break your face.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Lola and the Boy Next Door
“Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of herfather’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as henodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverwarewhen he thought no one was looking” ― Derek Landy, Skulduggery Pleasant
“We do this thing. We open our hearts to the world around us. And the more we do that, the more we allow ourselves to love, the more we are bound to find ourselves one day - like Dave, and Morley, and Sam, and Stephanie - standing in the kitchen of our live, surrounded by the ones we love, and feeling empty, and alone, and sad, and lost for words, because one of our loved ones, who should be there, is missing. Mother or father, brother or sister, wife or husband, or a dog or cat. It doesn't really matter. After a while, each death feels like all the deaths, and you stand there like eveyone else has stood there before you, while the big wind of sadness blows around and through you. "He was a great dog," said Dave."Yes," said Morley. "He was a great dog.” ― Stuart McLean
“To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: Uncommon ProstituesI have nothing to say about prostitues (other than you'd make a terrible prostitute,the profession is much too unclean), I only wanted to type that. Isn't it odd we both have to spend Christmas with our fathers? Speaking of unpleasant matters,have you spoken with Bridge yet? I'm taking the bus to the hospital now.I expect a full breakdown of your Christmas dinner when I return. So far today,I've had a bowl of muesli. How does Mum eat that rubbish? I feel as if I've been gnawing on lumber.To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: Christmas DinnerMUESLY? It's Christmas,and you're eating CEREAL?? I'm mentally sending you a plate from my house. The turkey is in the oven,the gravy's on the stovetop,and the mashed potatoes and casseroles are being prepared as I type this. Wait. I bet you eat bread pudding and mince pies or something,don't you? Well, I'm mentally sending you bread pudding. Whatever that is. No, I haven't talked to Bridgette.Mom keeps bugging me to answer her calls,but winter break sucks enough already. (WHY is my dad here? SERIOUSLY. MAKE HIM LEAVE. He's wearing this giant white cable-knit sweater,and he looks like a pompous snowman,and he keeps rearranging the stuff on our kitchen cabinets. Mom is about to kill him. WHICH IS WHY SHE SHOULDN'T INVITE HIM OVER FOR HOLIDAYS). Anyway.I'd rather not add to the drama.P.S. I hope your mom is doing better. I'm so sorry you have to spend today in a hospital. I really do wish I could send you both a plate of turkey.To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: Re: Christmas DinnerYOU feel sorry for ME? I am not the one who has never tasted bread pudding. The hospital was the same. I won't bore you with the details. Though I had to wait an hour to catch the bus back,and it started raining.Now that I'm at the flat, my father has left for the hospital. We're each making stellar work of pretending the other doesn't exist.P.S. Mum says to tell you "Merry Christmas." So Merry Christmas from my mum, but Happy Christmas from me. To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: SAVE MEWorst.Dinner.Ever.It took less than five minutes for things to explode. My dad tried to force Seany to eat the green bean casserole, and when he wouldn't, Dad accused Mom of not feeding my brother enough vegetables. So she threw down her fork,and said that Dad had no right to tell her how to raise her children. And then he brought out the "I'm their father" crap, and she brought out the "You abandoned them" crap,and meanwhile, the WHOLE TIME my half-dead Nanna is shouting, "WHERE'S THE SALT! I CAN'T TASTE THE CASSEROLE! PASS THE SALT!" And then Granddad complained that Mom's turkey was "a wee dry," and she lost it. I mean,Mom just started screaming.And it freaked Seany out,and he ran to his room crying, and when I checked on him, he was UNWRAPPING A CANDY CANE!! I have no idea where it came from. He knows he can't eat Red Dye #40! So I grabbed it from him,and he cried harder, and Mom ran in and yelled at ME, like I'd given him the stupid thing. Not, "Thank you for saving my only son's life,Anna." And then Dad came in and the fighting resumed,and they didn't even notice that Seany was still sobbing. So I took him outside and fed him cookies,and now he's running aruond in circles,and my grandparents are still at the table, as if we're all going to sit back down and finish our meal.WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY FAMILY? And now Dad is knocking on my door. Great. Can this stupid holiday get any worse??” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“This game brings out the most selfish parts of many people, but it had the opposite effect on you. Watching you restored my belief that Caraval could be what I believe it used to be---and that my brother could be good once again.” ― Stephanie Garber, Caraval
“as the old pharaoh was laid to rest, allowing her brother to claim his place fully upon the Isis Throne.” ― Stephanie Thornton, Daughter of the Gods: A Novel of Ancient Egypt
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,’ Scarlett managed.He smiled, wide and sincere. ‘I’m tempted to say you’re even prettier than I imagined, but I would hate you to think me unoriginal.’ ‘Too late,’ Julian coughed. A wrinkle formed between Nicolas’s thick brows as he noticed Scarlett’s companion. ‘And you are?’ ‘Julian.’ He offered his hand. But Nicolas refused to let go of Scarlett’s. ‘I wasn’t aware Scarlett had a brother.’ ‘I’m not her brother.’ Julian kept his tone friendly, but Scarlett felt a surge of bruising purple panic as devilry sparked in Julian’s eyes. ‘I’m not related to her at all. I’m an actor she played with during Caraval.’ He emphasized the words played with, and Scarlett could have choked him. Julian would choose now to finally be honest. Not that Nicolas appeared disturbed. The young count’s broad smile remained even as he petted Timber with his free hand. But Julian wasn’t finished. ‘I’m not surprised she’s never mentioned me. At the start of Caraval I don’t think she liked me much. But then we were given the same bedroom—’ ‘Julian, enough,’ Scarlett cut in.” ― Stephanie Garber, Finale
“I've never been in this part of Trenton before. I don't feel comfortable driving around buildings that haven't got gang slogans sprayed on them. Look at this place. No boarded-up windows. No garbage in the gutter. No brothers selling goods on the street. Don't know how people can live like this.” ― Janet Evanovich, Three to Get Deadly
“I'm sorry," she whispers."You're sorry? You've been dating Toph for the last month,and you're sorry?""It just happened.I meant to tell you, I wanted to tell you-""But you lost control over your mouth? Because it's easy,Bridge. Talking is easy. Look at me! I'm talking right-""You know it wasn't that easy! I didn't mean for it to happen,it just did-""Oh,you didn't mean to wreck my life? It just 'happened'?"Bridge stands up from behind her drums. It's impossible,but she's taller than me now. "What do you mean,wreck your life?""Don't play dumb,you know exactly what I mean. How could you do this to me?""Do what? It's not like you were dating!"I scream in frustration. "We certainly won't be now!"She sneers. "It's kind of hard to date someone who's not interested in you.""LIAR!""What,you ditch us for Paris and expect us to put our lives on hold for you?"My jaw drops. "I didn't ditch you. They sent me away.""Ooo,yeah.To Paris.Meanwhile,I'm stuck here in Shitlanta, Georgia, at the same shitty school,doing shitty babysitting jobs-""If babysitting my brother is so shitty, why do you do it?""I didn't meant-""Because you want to turn him against me, too? Well.Congratulations, Bridge. It worked. My brother loves you and hates me. So you're welcome to move in when I leave again,because that's what you want, right? My life?"She shakes with fury. "Go to hell.""Take my life.You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!" I knock over a cymbal stand,and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name.Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away,away,away.Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“Your brother?" St. Clair points above my bed to the only picture I've hung up. Seany is grinning at the camera and pointing at one of my mother's research turtles,which is lifting its neck and threatening to take away his finger. Mom is doing a study on the lifetime reproductive habits of snapping turtles and visits her brood in the Chattahoochie River several times a month. My brother loves to go with her, while I prefer the safety of our home. Snapping turtles are mean."Yep.That's Sean.""That's a little Irish for a family with tartan bedspreads."I smile. "It's kind of a sore spot. My mom loved the name,but Granddad-my father's father-practically died when he heard it.He was rooting for Malcolm or Ewan or Dougal instead."St. Clair laughs. "How old is he?""Seven.He's in the second grade.""That's a big age difference.""Well,he was either an accident or a last-ditch effort to save a failing marriage.I've never had the nerve to ask which.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“See you at breakfast?""Yeah.See ya." I try to say this casually,but I'm so thrilled that I skip from her room and promptly slam into a wall.Whoops.Not a wall.A boy."Oof." He staggers backward."Sorry! I'm so sorry,I didn't know you were there."He shakes his head,a little dazed. The first thing I notice is his hair-it's the first thing I notice about everyone. It's dark brown and messy and somehow both long and short at the same time. I think of the Beatles,since I've just seen them in Meredith's room. It's artist hair.Musician hair. I-pretend-I-don't-care-but-I-really-do-hair.Beautiful hair."It's okay,I didn't see you either. Are you all right,then?"Oh my.He's English."Er.Does Mer live here?"Seriously,I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent.The boy clears his throat. "Meredith Chevalier? Tall girl? Big,curly hair?" Then he looks at me like I'm crazy or half deaf,like my Nanna Oliphant. Nanna just smiles and shakes her head whenever I ask, "What kind of salad dressing would you like?" or "Where did you put Granddad's false teeth?""I'm sorry." He takes the smallest step away from me. "You were going to bed.""Yes! Meredith lives there.I've just spent two hours with her." I announce this proudly like my brother, Seany, whenever he finds something disgusting in the yard. "I'm Anna! I'm new here!" Oh God. What.Is with.The scary enthusiasm? My cheeks catch fire, and it's all so humiliating.The beautiful boy gives an amused grin. His teeth are lovely-straight on top and crooked on the bottom,with a touch of overbite. I'm a sucker for smiles like this,due to my own lack of orthodontia. I have a gap between my front teeth the size of a raisin."Etienne," he says. "I live one floor up.""I live here." I point dumbly at my room while my mind whirs: French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.He raps twice on Meredith's door. "Well. I'll see you around then, Anna."Eh-t-yen says my name like this: Ah-na.My heart thump thump thumps in my chest.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“She stared at him, at his face. Simply stared as the scales fell from her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispered, the exclamation so quiet not even he would hear. She suddenly saw-saw it all-all that she'd simply taken for granted.Men like him protected those they loved, selflessly, unswervingly, even unto death. The realization rocked her. Pieces of the jigsaw of her understanding of him fell into place. He was hanging to consciousness by a thread. She had to be sure-and his shields, his defenses were at their weakest now.Looking down at her hands, pressed over the nearly saturated pad, she hunted for the words, the right tone. Softly said, "My death, even my serious injury, would have freed you from any obligation to marry me. Society would have accepted that outcome, too."He shifted, clearly in pain. She sucked in a breath-feeling his pain as her own-then he clamped the long fingers of his right hand about her wrist, held tight.So tight she felt he was using her as an anchor to consciousness, to the world.His tone, when he spoke, was harsh. "Oh, yes-after I'd expended so much effort keeping you safe all these years, safe even from me, I was suddenly going to stand by and let you be gored by some mangy bull." He snorted, soft, low. Weakly. He drew in a slow, shallow breath, lips thin with pain, but determined, went on, "You think I'd let you get injured when finally after all these long years I at last understand that the reason you've always made me itch is because you are the only woman I actually want to marry? And you think I would stand back and let you be harmed?"A peevish frown crossed his face. "I ask you, is that likely? Is it even vaguely rational?"He went on, his words increasingly slurred, his tongue tripping over some, his voice fading. She listened, strained to catch every word as he slid into semi delirium, into rambling, disjointed sentences that she drank in, held to her heart.He gave her dreams back to her, reshaped and refined. "Not French Imperial-good, sound, English oak. You can use whatever colors you like, but no gilt-I forbid it."Eventually he ventured further than she had. "And I want at least three children-not just an heir and a spare. At least three-if you're agreeable. We'll have to have two boys, of course-my evil ugly sisters will found us to make good on that. But thereafter...as many girls as you like...as long as they look like you. Or perhaps Cordelia-she's the handsomer of the two uglies."He loved his sisters, his evil ugly sisters. Heather listened with tears in her eyes as his mind drifted and his voice gradually faded, weakened.She'd finally got her declaration, not in anything like the words she'd expected, but in a stronger, impossible-to-doubt exposition.He'd been her protector, unswerving, unflinching, always there; from a man like him, focused on a lady like her, such actions were tantamount to a declaration from the rooftops. The love she'd wanted him to admit to had been there all along, demonstrated daily right before her eyes, but she hadn't seen.Hadn't seen because she'd been focusing elsewhere, and because, conditioned as she was to resisting the same style of possessive protectiveness from her brothers, from her cousins, she hadn't appreciated his, hadn't realized that that quality had to be an expression of his feelings for her.Until now.Until now that he'd all but given his life for hers.He loved her-he'd always loved her. She saw that now, looking back down the years. He'd loved her from the time she'd fallen in love with him-the instant they'd laid eyes on each other at Michael and Caro's wedding in Hampshire four years ago.He'd held aloof, held away-held her at bay, too-believing, wrongly, that he wasn't an appropriate husband for her.In that, he'd been wrong, too.She saw it all. And as the tears overflowed and tracked down her cheeks, she knew to her soul how right he was for her. Knew, embraced, and rejoiced.” ― Stephanie Laurens, Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue
“What was it about the Draven brothers that had you doing anything they wished of you. It wasn't just their voice,it was everything, every tiny little supernatural molecule they possessed had you jumping to whatever beat they set. It was their sheer strength. Their inbuilt authority and their never ending power to use at will. And I was hooked like a junkie.” ― Stephanie Hudson, The Triple Goddess
“You've given me everything I need of you-thanks to you I have all my heart desires, all I thought I might never have. All I need for a wonderful, fulfilling future. And I nearly lost it all."She held his gaze but was wise enough not to interrupt. If she had...He drew breath and forged on, "Nearly dying clarified things. When you stand on the border between life and death, the truly important things are easy to discern. One of the things I saw and finally understood was that only fools and cowards leave the truth of love unsaid. Only the weak leave love unacknowledged."Holding her gaze, all but lost in the shimmery blue of her eyes, he raised her hand to his lips, gently kissed. "So, my darling Heather, even though you already know it, let me put the truth-my truth-into words. I love you. With all my heart, to the depths of my soul. And I will love you forever, until the day I die."Her smile lit his world. "Just as well." Happiness shone in her eyes. She pressed his fingers. "Because I plan to be with you, by your side, every day for the rest of your life, and in spirit far beyond. I'm yours for all eternity."Smiling, he closed his hand about hers. "Mine to protect for our eternity."Yes. Neither said the word, yet the sense of it vibrated in the air all around them.A high-pitched giggle broke the spell, had them both looking along the path.TO Lucilla and Marcus, who slipped out from behind a raised bed and raced toward them.Reaching them, laughing with delight, the pair whooped and circled.Heather glanced to left and right, trying to keep the twins in sight, uncertain of what had them so excited. So exhilarated.Almost as if they were reacting to the emotions coursing through her, and presumably Breckenridge. Her husband-to-be."You're getting married!" Lucilla crowed.Catching Lucilla's eyes as the pair slowed their circling dance, Heather nodded. "Yes, we are. And I rather think you two will have to come down in London to be flower girl and page boy."Absolute delight broke across Lucilla's face. She looked at her brother. "See? I told you-the Lady never makes a mistake, and if you do what shetells you, you get a reward.""I suppose." Marcus looked up at Breckenridge. "London will be fun." He switched his gaze to Lucilla. "Come on! Let's go and tell Mama and Papa.” ― Stephanie Laurens, Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue
“Giveaway T-shirts stretched over monstrous beer bellies. Puffy NFL jackets and porky jowls. Granted, I'm in a bowling alley,but the differences between Americans and Parisians are shocking.I'm ashamed to see my country the way the French must see us. Couldn't these people have at least brushed their hair before leaving their houses?"I need a licorice rope," Cherrie announces. She marches toward the snack stand,and all I can think is these people are your future.The thought makes me a little happier.When she comes back,I inform her that just one bite of her Red Dye #40-infused snack could kill my brother. "God, morbid," she says. Which makes me think of St. Clair again.Because when I told him the same thing three months ago,instead of accusing me of morbidity,he asked with genuine curiosity, "Why?"Which is the polite thing to do when someone offers you such an interesting piece of conversation.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“Relax, brother." A wolfish smile replaced Julian's scowl. "I was just going to tell her the truth. We all have free will, Tella. If you become immortal, you won't lose your free will. You won't feel my brother controlling you. But you'll never feel him loving you like the way I love Crimson.” ― Stephanie Garber, Finale
“On the North American plains in the 1930s, a Kiowa Indian woman commented to a researcher that “a woman can always get another husband, but she has only one brother.” ― Stephanie Coontz, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy
“During the rule of the Southern Dynasties (A.D. 317-589), one Chinese princess argued that she, like her brother the emperor, was entitled to a harem. Her wishes prevailed, and she was assigned thirty male “concubines.”10” ― Stephanie Coontz, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy
“She rests her hand on the ruffled costume beside her. “Just answer this one question. My brother never got over you. Did you ever get over him?”I swallow. “There are some people in life that you can’t get over.”“Good.” Calliope stands and gives me a grim smile. “But break Cricket’s heart? I’ll break your face.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Lola and the Boy Next Door
“Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of herfather’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as henodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverwarewhen he thought no one was looking” ― Derek Landy, Skulduggery Pleasant
“We do this thing. We open our hearts to the world around us. And the more we do that, the more we allow ourselves to love, the more we are bound to find ourselves one day - like Dave, and Morley, and Sam, and Stephanie - standing in the kitchen of our live, surrounded by the ones we love, and feeling empty, and alone, and sad, and lost for words, because one of our loved ones, who should be there, is missing. Mother or father, brother or sister, wife or husband, or a dog or cat. It doesn't really matter. After a while, each death feels like all the deaths, and you stand there like eveyone else has stood there before you, while the big wind of sadness blows around and through you. "He was a great dog," said Dave."Yes," said Morley. "He was a great dog.” ― Stuart McLean
“To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: Uncommon ProstituesI have nothing to say about prostitues (other than you'd make a terrible prostitute,the profession is much too unclean), I only wanted to type that. Isn't it odd we both have to spend Christmas with our fathers? Speaking of unpleasant matters,have you spoken with Bridge yet? I'm taking the bus to the hospital now.I expect a full breakdown of your Christmas dinner when I return. So far today,I've had a bowl of muesli. How does Mum eat that rubbish? I feel as if I've been gnawing on lumber.To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: Christmas DinnerMUESLY? It's Christmas,and you're eating CEREAL?? I'm mentally sending you a plate from my house. The turkey is in the oven,the gravy's on the stovetop,and the mashed potatoes and casseroles are being prepared as I type this. Wait. I bet you eat bread pudding and mince pies or something,don't you? Well, I'm mentally sending you bread pudding. Whatever that is. No, I haven't talked to Bridgette.Mom keeps bugging me to answer her calls,but winter break sucks enough already. (WHY is my dad here? SERIOUSLY. MAKE HIM LEAVE. He's wearing this giant white cable-knit sweater,and he looks like a pompous snowman,and he keeps rearranging the stuff on our kitchen cabinets. Mom is about to kill him. WHICH IS WHY SHE SHOULDN'T INVITE HIM OVER FOR HOLIDAYS). Anyway.I'd rather not add to the drama.P.S. I hope your mom is doing better. I'm so sorry you have to spend today in a hospital. I really do wish I could send you both a plate of turkey.To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: Re: Christmas DinnerYOU feel sorry for ME? I am not the one who has never tasted bread pudding. The hospital was the same. I won't bore you with the details. Though I had to wait an hour to catch the bus back,and it started raining.Now that I'm at the flat, my father has left for the hospital. We're each making stellar work of pretending the other doesn't exist.P.S. Mum says to tell you "Merry Christmas." So Merry Christmas from my mum, but Happy Christmas from me. To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: SAVE MEWorst.Dinner.Ever.It took less than five minutes for things to explode. My dad tried to force Seany to eat the green bean casserole, and when he wouldn't, Dad accused Mom of not feeding my brother enough vegetables. So she threw down her fork,and said that Dad had no right to tell her how to raise her children. And then he brought out the "I'm their father" crap, and she brought out the "You abandoned them" crap,and meanwhile, the WHOLE TIME my half-dead Nanna is shouting, "WHERE'S THE SALT! I CAN'T TASTE THE CASSEROLE! PASS THE SALT!" And then Granddad complained that Mom's turkey was "a wee dry," and she lost it. I mean,Mom just started screaming.And it freaked Seany out,and he ran to his room crying, and when I checked on him, he was UNWRAPPING A CANDY CANE!! I have no idea where it came from. He knows he can't eat Red Dye #40! So I grabbed it from him,and he cried harder, and Mom ran in and yelled at ME, like I'd given him the stupid thing. Not, "Thank you for saving my only son's life,Anna." And then Dad came in and the fighting resumed,and they didn't even notice that Seany was still sobbing. So I took him outside and fed him cookies,and now he's running aruond in circles,and my grandparents are still at the table, as if we're all going to sit back down and finish our meal.WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY FAMILY? And now Dad is knocking on my door. Great. Can this stupid holiday get any worse??” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“This game brings out the most selfish parts of many people, but it had the opposite effect on you. Watching you restored my belief that Caraval could be what I believe it used to be---and that my brother could be good once again.” ― Stephanie Garber, Caraval
“as the old pharaoh was laid to rest, allowing her brother to claim his place fully upon the Isis Throne.” ― Stephanie Thornton, Daughter of the Gods: A Novel of Ancient Egypt
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,’ Scarlett managed.He smiled, wide and sincere. ‘I’m tempted to say you’re even prettier than I imagined, but I would hate you to think me unoriginal.’ ‘Too late,’ Julian coughed. A wrinkle formed between Nicolas’s thick brows as he noticed Scarlett’s companion. ‘And you are?’ ‘Julian.’ He offered his hand. But Nicolas refused to let go of Scarlett’s. ‘I wasn’t aware Scarlett had a brother.’ ‘I’m not her brother.’ Julian kept his tone friendly, but Scarlett felt a surge of bruising purple panic as devilry sparked in Julian’s eyes. ‘I’m not related to her at all. I’m an actor she played with during Caraval.’ He emphasized the words played with, and Scarlett could have choked him. Julian would choose now to finally be honest. Not that Nicolas appeared disturbed. The young count’s broad smile remained even as he petted Timber with his free hand. But Julian wasn’t finished. ‘I’m not surprised she’s never mentioned me. At the start of Caraval I don’t think she liked me much. But then we were given the same bedroom—’ ‘Julian, enough,’ Scarlett cut in.” ― Stephanie Garber, Finale
“I've never been in this part of Trenton before. I don't feel comfortable driving around buildings that haven't got gang slogans sprayed on them. Look at this place. No boarded-up windows. No garbage in the gutter. No brothers selling goods on the street. Don't know how people can live like this.” ― Janet Evanovich, Three to Get Deadly
“I'm sorry," she whispers."You're sorry? You've been dating Toph for the last month,and you're sorry?""It just happened.I meant to tell you, I wanted to tell you-""But you lost control over your mouth? Because it's easy,Bridge. Talking is easy. Look at me! I'm talking right-""You know it wasn't that easy! I didn't mean for it to happen,it just did-""Oh,you didn't mean to wreck my life? It just 'happened'?"Bridge stands up from behind her drums. It's impossible,but she's taller than me now. "What do you mean,wreck your life?""Don't play dumb,you know exactly what I mean. How could you do this to me?""Do what? It's not like you were dating!"I scream in frustration. "We certainly won't be now!"She sneers. "It's kind of hard to date someone who's not interested in you.""LIAR!""What,you ditch us for Paris and expect us to put our lives on hold for you?"My jaw drops. "I didn't ditch you. They sent me away.""Ooo,yeah.To Paris.Meanwhile,I'm stuck here in Shitlanta, Georgia, at the same shitty school,doing shitty babysitting jobs-""If babysitting my brother is so shitty, why do you do it?""I didn't meant-""Because you want to turn him against me, too? Well.Congratulations, Bridge. It worked. My brother loves you and hates me. So you're welcome to move in when I leave again,because that's what you want, right? My life?"She shakes with fury. "Go to hell.""Take my life.You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!" I knock over a cymbal stand,and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name.Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away,away,away.Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“Your brother?" St. Clair points above my bed to the only picture I've hung up. Seany is grinning at the camera and pointing at one of my mother's research turtles,which is lifting its neck and threatening to take away his finger. Mom is doing a study on the lifetime reproductive habits of snapping turtles and visits her brood in the Chattahoochie River several times a month. My brother loves to go with her, while I prefer the safety of our home. Snapping turtles are mean."Yep.That's Sean.""That's a little Irish for a family with tartan bedspreads."I smile. "It's kind of a sore spot. My mom loved the name,but Granddad-my father's father-practically died when he heard it.He was rooting for Malcolm or Ewan or Dougal instead."St. Clair laughs. "How old is he?""Seven.He's in the second grade.""That's a big age difference.""Well,he was either an accident or a last-ditch effort to save a failing marriage.I've never had the nerve to ask which.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“See you at breakfast?""Yeah.See ya." I try to say this casually,but I'm so thrilled that I skip from her room and promptly slam into a wall.Whoops.Not a wall.A boy."Oof." He staggers backward."Sorry! I'm so sorry,I didn't know you were there."He shakes his head,a little dazed. The first thing I notice is his hair-it's the first thing I notice about everyone. It's dark brown and messy and somehow both long and short at the same time. I think of the Beatles,since I've just seen them in Meredith's room. It's artist hair.Musician hair. I-pretend-I-don't-care-but-I-really-do-hair.Beautiful hair."It's okay,I didn't see you either. Are you all right,then?"Oh my.He's English."Er.Does Mer live here?"Seriously,I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent.The boy clears his throat. "Meredith Chevalier? Tall girl? Big,curly hair?" Then he looks at me like I'm crazy or half deaf,like my Nanna Oliphant. Nanna just smiles and shakes her head whenever I ask, "What kind of salad dressing would you like?" or "Where did you put Granddad's false teeth?""I'm sorry." He takes the smallest step away from me. "You were going to bed.""Yes! Meredith lives there.I've just spent two hours with her." I announce this proudly like my brother, Seany, whenever he finds something disgusting in the yard. "I'm Anna! I'm new here!" Oh God. What.Is with.The scary enthusiasm? My cheeks catch fire, and it's all so humiliating.The beautiful boy gives an amused grin. His teeth are lovely-straight on top and crooked on the bottom,with a touch of overbite. I'm a sucker for smiles like this,due to my own lack of orthodontia. I have a gap between my front teeth the size of a raisin."Etienne," he says. "I live one floor up.""I live here." I point dumbly at my room while my mind whirs: French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.He raps twice on Meredith's door. "Well. I'll see you around then, Anna."Eh-t-yen says my name like this: Ah-na.My heart thump thump thumps in my chest.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“She stared at him, at his face. Simply stared as the scales fell from her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispered, the exclamation so quiet not even he would hear. She suddenly saw-saw it all-all that she'd simply taken for granted.Men like him protected those they loved, selflessly, unswervingly, even unto death. The realization rocked her. Pieces of the jigsaw of her understanding of him fell into place. He was hanging to consciousness by a thread. She had to be sure-and his shields, his defenses were at their weakest now.Looking down at her hands, pressed over the nearly saturated pad, she hunted for the words, the right tone. Softly said, "My death, even my serious injury, would have freed you from any obligation to marry me. Society would have accepted that outcome, too."He shifted, clearly in pain. She sucked in a breath-feeling his pain as her own-then he clamped the long fingers of his right hand about her wrist, held tight.So tight she felt he was using her as an anchor to consciousness, to the world.His tone, when he spoke, was harsh. "Oh, yes-after I'd expended so much effort keeping you safe all these years, safe even from me, I was suddenly going to stand by and let you be gored by some mangy bull." He snorted, soft, low. Weakly. He drew in a slow, shallow breath, lips thin with pain, but determined, went on, "You think I'd let you get injured when finally after all these long years I at last understand that the reason you've always made me itch is because you are the only woman I actually want to marry? And you think I would stand back and let you be harmed?"A peevish frown crossed his face. "I ask you, is that likely? Is it even vaguely rational?"He went on, his words increasingly slurred, his tongue tripping over some, his voice fading. She listened, strained to catch every word as he slid into semi delirium, into rambling, disjointed sentences that she drank in, held to her heart.He gave her dreams back to her, reshaped and refined. "Not French Imperial-good, sound, English oak. You can use whatever colors you like, but no gilt-I forbid it."Eventually he ventured further than she had. "And I want at least three children-not just an heir and a spare. At least three-if you're agreeable. We'll have to have two boys, of course-my evil ugly sisters will found us to make good on that. But thereafter...as many girls as you like...as long as they look like you. Or perhaps Cordelia-she's the handsomer of the two uglies."He loved his sisters, his evil ugly sisters. Heather listened with tears in her eyes as his mind drifted and his voice gradually faded, weakened.She'd finally got her declaration, not in anything like the words she'd expected, but in a stronger, impossible-to-doubt exposition.He'd been her protector, unswerving, unflinching, always there; from a man like him, focused on a lady like her, such actions were tantamount to a declaration from the rooftops. The love she'd wanted him to admit to had been there all along, demonstrated daily right before her eyes, but she hadn't seen.Hadn't seen because she'd been focusing elsewhere, and because, conditioned as she was to resisting the same style of possessive protectiveness from her brothers, from her cousins, she hadn't appreciated his, hadn't realized that that quality had to be an expression of his feelings for her.Until now.Until now that he'd all but given his life for hers.He loved her-he'd always loved her. She saw that now, looking back down the years. He'd loved her from the time she'd fallen in love with him-the instant they'd laid eyes on each other at Michael and Caro's wedding in Hampshire four years ago.He'd held aloof, held away-held her at bay, too-believing, wrongly, that he wasn't an appropriate husband for her.In that, he'd been wrong, too.She saw it all. And as the tears overflowed and tracked down her cheeks, she knew to her soul how right he was for her. Knew, embraced, and rejoiced.” ― Stephanie Laurens, Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue
“What was it about the Draven brothers that had you doing anything they wished of you. It wasn't just their voice,it was everything, every tiny little supernatural molecule they possessed had you jumping to whatever beat they set. It was their sheer strength. Their inbuilt authority and their never ending power to use at will. And I was hooked like a junkie.” ― Stephanie Hudson, The Triple Goddess
“You've given me everything I need of you-thanks to you I have all my heart desires, all I thought I might never have. All I need for a wonderful, fulfilling future. And I nearly lost it all."She held his gaze but was wise enough not to interrupt. If she had...He drew breath and forged on, "Nearly dying clarified things. When you stand on the border between life and death, the truly important things are easy to discern. One of the things I saw and finally understood was that only fools and cowards leave the truth of love unsaid. Only the weak leave love unacknowledged."Holding her gaze, all but lost in the shimmery blue of her eyes, he raised her hand to his lips, gently kissed. "So, my darling Heather, even though you already know it, let me put the truth-my truth-into words. I love you. With all my heart, to the depths of my soul. And I will love you forever, until the day I die."Her smile lit his world. "Just as well." Happiness shone in her eyes. She pressed his fingers. "Because I plan to be with you, by your side, every day for the rest of your life, and in spirit far beyond. I'm yours for all eternity."Smiling, he closed his hand about hers. "Mine to protect for our eternity."Yes. Neither said the word, yet the sense of it vibrated in the air all around them.A high-pitched giggle broke the spell, had them both looking along the path.TO Lucilla and Marcus, who slipped out from behind a raised bed and raced toward them.Reaching them, laughing with delight, the pair whooped and circled.Heather glanced to left and right, trying to keep the twins in sight, uncertain of what had them so excited. So exhilarated.Almost as if they were reacting to the emotions coursing through her, and presumably Breckenridge. Her husband-to-be."You're getting married!" Lucilla crowed.Catching Lucilla's eyes as the pair slowed their circling dance, Heather nodded. "Yes, we are. And I rather think you two will have to come down in London to be flower girl and page boy."Absolute delight broke across Lucilla's face. She looked at her brother. "See? I told you-the Lady never makes a mistake, and if you do what shetells you, you get a reward.""I suppose." Marcus looked up at Breckenridge. "London will be fun." He switched his gaze to Lucilla. "Come on! Let's go and tell Mama and Papa.” ― Stephanie Laurens, Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue
“Giveaway T-shirts stretched over monstrous beer bellies. Puffy NFL jackets and porky jowls. Granted, I'm in a bowling alley,but the differences between Americans and Parisians are shocking.I'm ashamed to see my country the way the French must see us. Couldn't these people have at least brushed their hair before leaving their houses?"I need a licorice rope," Cherrie announces. She marches toward the snack stand,and all I can think is these people are your future.The thought makes me a little happier.When she comes back,I inform her that just one bite of her Red Dye #40-infused snack could kill my brother. "God, morbid," she says. Which makes me think of St. Clair again.Because when I told him the same thing three months ago,instead of accusing me of morbidity,he asked with genuine curiosity, "Why?"Which is the polite thing to do when someone offers you such an interesting piece of conversation.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss
“Relax, brother." A wolfish smile replaced Julian's scowl. "I was just going to tell her the truth. We all have free will, Tella. If you become immortal, you won't lose your free will. You won't feel my brother controlling you. But you'll never feel him loving you like the way I love Crimson.” ― Stephanie Garber, Finale
“On the North American plains in the 1930s, a Kiowa Indian woman commented to a researcher that “a woman can always get another husband, but she has only one brother.” ― Stephanie Coontz, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy
“During the rule of the Southern Dynasties (A.D. 317-589), one Chinese princess argued that she, like her brother the emperor, was entitled to a harem. Her wishes prevailed, and she was assigned thirty male “concubines.”10” ― Stephanie Coontz, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy
