Sheila Powell

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Beyond the Veil
Sheila Powell is currently reading
by Caroline Peckham (Goodreads Author)
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K. Bromberg
“That lifeline thing goes both ways, you know? Use it. Use him. He won’t break if you do … but you just might if you don’t.”
K. Bromberg, Crashed

Sophie Monroe
“Listen, we’re going to have to learn to get along if we’re going to be spending the next three months together. So how about a truce? I won’t judge you if you agree not to judge me.” “I don’t make promises that I know I won’t be able to keep. We’ll take it a minute at a time.” “Deal. So let’s start over. I’m Jake Parker, and I’m not the womanizing asshole that the media portrays me as.” “I’m Aubrey Thompson. I am opinionated and downright uncensored. Fair warning.” I shrugged. “Nice to meet you uncensored, opinionated Aubrey. How old are you?” “Twenty-three, almost twenty-four.” “I’m twenty-five, almost twenty-six.” “Well, almost twenty-six year old Jake I’d really like to get back to this.” I held my e-reader up. “I like you Aubrey. I can tell by your sarcastic undertones, rude comments and sheer lack of common decency that we’re going to friends in no time. I can just tell.” “Whatever you say, Boss.” I grumbled.”
Sophie Monroe, Battlescars

K. Bromberg
“Baby, Heaven doesn't want me yet, and Fuck if Hell can handle me, so you're kinda stuck with me.”
K. Bromberg, Crashed

Abraham Lincoln
“Folks are usually about as happy as they make their minds up to be.”
Abraham Lincoln

Sophie Monroe
“Well, if isn’t my favorite bran muffin.” She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a Lucky Strike. “If it isn’t my favorite dinosaur.” I teased back. She stuck her tongue out at me like an errant child. “Roar!” I sat at the table and stole one of her cigarettes. How she smoked those things I would never know. “Looks like I’m off on another adventure. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone this time.” I said somewhat sulking. “Where to this time?” She raised a brow. “We’re off to New York carting around some rock star.” I waited for her reaction. Granny loved rock stars. “Who is it?” She prodded. “Jake Parker.” I said with disgust. “Oh, I’d like him to come clean out my cobwebs.” She beamed. I did not need the mental picture that followed. “Granny, that’s disgusting!” I shrieked. “Whatever, it’s true. That boy is a tall drink of water if I’ve ever seen one.” “Alright, I’m outta here. Thanks for the nightmares.”
Sophie Monroe, Battlescars

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