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Quote by Sherry Thomas

“Her hand reached up and took a strand of his hair between her fingers. “Simple as that.” She gently pulled on that curl and let it go. “It’s so springy.” They’d barely grazed at the truth, but I she was satisfied—and distracted. By his hair, of all things. “I feel like a sheep that has been overlooked during spring shearing,” he murmured. “Yes, adorably fluffy.” Another time he might have protested the use of that adjective. But now he was all too relieved. “Would you like me to pull my chair closer, so you may fondle my hair with greater ease?” he asked. She beamed at him. “Why, yes, I’d like exactly that.”

Quote by Sherry Thomas

Work

Tempting the Bride

This novel delves into the complexities of a marriage of convenience, exploring themes of desire, deception, and the transformative power of love. more

Author

Sherry Thomas
Sherry Thomas

Sherry Thomas, born in 1975, is an enigmatic author whose unique writing style has won the hearts of readers. more

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“Seasons passed by. I always loved to watch the trees in our garden. With the first rain, the leaves would drench themselves. Slowly they would grow tired of the rain and droop. So would I, grow tired of waiting for him to look at me, talk to me. Slowly the leaves would dry up, and fall to the ground. It resembled a naked and shameless woman, trying to woo her husband. And the season would change, and the leaves would shoot slowly trying to gain the lost vigor. It would start blooming and look in its best form. The tree would be so overwhelmed by its own beauty that it would call upon the butterfly and birds. It would make everyone happy. But has anyone wondered how it feels? It feels like me.”

“Ashamed to avow my sins, A burden mine alone to bear, Broken beyond repair, Baptized in gold to fill the cracks, Restless nights, Velour gowns turning to sacks No amount of gold brings relief, Debased by lies and deceit, Beg for forgiveness, And you shall be forgiven, He, who knows all, saw underneath my veneer, A pain, a woe played for deaf ears, I beseech my lord to forgive my misdeeds abhorred, Let my midnight scribble turn into beautiful word.”