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“You can’t set fires, Anna. Never again. Promise.”
[Anna] aimed her defiance at Mary.
“And you? What’s your reason to hate me?”
Caroline spoke quietly. “We nearly died — in the fire in those mountains and at the house when Ravi had a gun pointed at us.” Her eyes were full of tears. “The fire you set at The Old Hospital could have killed me as well as Janet and Agnes.”
Anna muttered into the syrupy dregs of her tea. “Fire, you’re firing me?”
Mary grimaced. There had been too much fire.”
― The Alchemy Fire Murder
[Anna] aimed her defiance at Mary.
“And you? What’s your reason to hate me?”
Caroline spoke quietly. “We nearly died — in the fire in those mountains and at the house when Ravi had a gun pointed at us.” Her eyes were full of tears. “The fire you set at The Old Hospital could have killed me as well as Janet and Agnes.”
Anna muttered into the syrupy dregs of her tea. “Fire, you’re firing me?”
Mary grimaced. There had been too much fire.”
― The Alchemy Fire Murder

“A haunting memory flooded over Ethan when his own little sister had died. He had not thought of her in years! He glanced at the other chairs that sat empty around the table and wondered how different, or better his life would have been if she had lived. He tried to imagine her sitting there, but had trouble conjuring up her face.”
― Victor's Blessing
― Victor's Blessing

“Suddenly in the line of solders, she saw him. The boy who had killed Morris. She knew he was Morris’ killer. There was no mistake.”
― Sown in Tears: A Historical Novel of Love and Struggle
― Sown in Tears: A Historical Novel of Love and Struggle

“You see, writers traveling to Southeast Asia visit indigenous communities. No writing quest will be complete without some cross-cultural comparisons. This exercise is a decisive moment in every author’s life. Equate it to a photographer meeting his first old man with a wrinkled face or the old lady with heavy earrings dangling from her earlobes.”
― Saint Richard Parker
― Saint Richard Parker

“Mead.
O sweet elixir,
Ye bless the lips and steal the wits.
”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
O sweet elixir,
Ye bless the lips and steal the wits.
”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
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