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Quote by Charlaine Harris

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Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set

The Sookie Stackhouse series is a mix of mystery, romance, and supernatural elements. The books follow Sookie, a telepathic waitress, as she navigates her life in Bon Temps, dealing with supernatural creatures and human relationships. The series is known for its engaging plot and well-developed characters, blending elements of fantasy with contemporary romance. more

Author

Charlaine Harris
Charlaine Harris

Charlaine Harris is an American author known for her suspense and fantasy novels. She is best known for her 'Sookie Stackhouse' series, which was adapted into the television series 'True Blood'. Born on November 25, 1951, Harris has enjoyed a successful writing career, with her works being appreciated for their unique narrative style and intricate character development. more

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“I wondered what my father had looked like that day, how he had felt, marrying the lively and beautiful girl who was my mother. I wondered what his life was like now. Did he ever think of us? I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't; I didn't know him well enough. Instead, I wondered about him occasionally, with a confused kind of longing. There was a place inside me carved out for him; I didn't want it to be there, but it was. Once, at the hardware store, Brooks had shown me how to use a drill. I'd made a tiny hole that went deep. The place for my father was like that.”

“I'm going to die with Alexander's hand on my face, Tatiana thought. That is not a bad way to die. I cannot move. I can't get up. Just can't. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting. Through the haze in front of her she heard Alexander's voice. "Tatiana, I love you. Do you hear me? I love you like I've never loved anyone in my whole life. Now, get up. For me, Tatia. For me, please get up and go take care of your sister. Go on. And I'll take care of you.”

“Just when normal life felt almost possible - when the world held some kind of order, meaning, even loveliness (the prismatic spray of light through an icicle; the stillness of a sunrise), some small thing would go awry and veil of optimism was torn away, the barren world revealed. They learned, somehow, to wait those times out. There was no cure, no answer, no reparation. (161)”