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Quote by Allie Ray

“She felt neither the shimmering, aching thrill of kissing Cole nor the reckless confusion of being with Mr. Schubert. But rather grounded herself on the promise of a warm, humming tedium as simple, as predictable as Bill himself.”

Quote by Allie Ray

Work

Inheritance

Inheritance is a fictional narrative that delves into the complex dynamics of a family's inheritance, examining the impact of wealth and power on individual lives and relationships. more

Author

Allie Ray

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“She touched the back of his hand, tracing with one finger the curving course of a vein from knuckle to wrist. Then she took his wrist and squeezed it hard, and the feel of him in her hand made her wonder what the rest of him would be like. Neither of them, for a moment, could look the other in the face. Then Inman pulled his hand away and took his hat off and spun it by the brim into the air. He caught it and flipped his wrist and sent it skimming through the door to land inside where it would. They both smiled, and Inman put one hand to Ada's waist and the other to the back of her head. Her hair was in a loose upsweep, held with a clasp, and it was the cold nacre that Inman's fingers touched as he tipped her head to him for the kiss that had eluded them the day before.”

“Yes, the sweat will smell bad, but success has a beautiful scent, entirely different from the sweat. Do your due diligence. Do not relent. One day, you will reap the rewards of your resilience.”

“My – sufficiently wide experience of you, Mr Calverleigh, warns me that you are about to say something outrageous!’ ‘No, I assure you! Nothing derogatory! Charming girls, all of them! Only I don’t want to kiss them!’ She gave a startled gasp. ‘You don’t want – Well, upon my word! And if you mean me to understand from that –’ ‘I do,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘I should dearly love to kiss you – here and now!”

“He kisses me, the taste of sugar on my lips, and salt and spice on his. This is my heart, says the warm sugar of the vanilla. This is the inside of me, murmurs the cinnamon. This is everything that hurts, confesses the bright edge of chili powder, and everything I miss and everything I hope for. This is everything I do not say but that I hold in me, whispers that breath of salt at the end. This is my hidden heart of color and sugar, the things you might miss if I did not show you they were there.”