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“Any idea what the pattern is?” Dex asked“I’m not sure.” Something felt familiar, a shadow of an idea, not formed enough to make sense. She poured through her memories, scrounging for the clue she was missing. The pieces clicked. “Elementine.”“What’s the pattern?”“I don’t know, but I know Elementine is right.”
Shannon Messenger“Androma was good at what she did. But so was Dex.Besides, a prodigy could only outrun her master for so long.”
Sasha Alsberg, Zenith Part 1“No matter what happened, he was Dex and I was Perry and that combination only led to trouble.”
Karina Halle, Into the Hollow“It's scented! Your wedding invitations are scented?""It's meant to be lavender.""No, Dex - it's money. It smells of money.”
David Nicholls, One Day“Someday being with Dex will be a distant memory. This fact makes me sad too. Its the initial stages of grief that seem to be worst but in some ways, Its sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they're missed in your life.”
Emily Giffin, Something Borrowed“He could do with some lunch. Especially since that bastard Sloane gave his Cheesy Doodles away. What kind of guy does that? A bastard, that’s who. Did he not respect the male code of honor—thou shalt not steal another dude’s snacks?--Dex”
Charlie Cochet, Hell & High Water“Cael, come on. Stop licking the dude. That's gross."Letty let out a snort. "Please, like you don't lick dudes.""That's different," Dex explained with a grimace. "None of those dudes were Ash. Besides, last time I checked, Ash was allergic to nuts.”
Charlie Cochet, Hell & High Water“If Sloane’s quiet words hadn’t been enough to get Dex squirming in his towel, Sloane’s quick kiss to his lips sealed the deal. Oh God, he was about to get a hard-on at work, and the bastard that was the cause of it was loving every moment ”
Charlie Cochet, Hell & High Water“Dex's mother knew she should be afraid for her daughter. This, she'd been told, was the tragedy of being a girl. To live in fear–it was the fate of any parent, maybe, but the special provenance of a mother to a daughter, one woman raising another, knowing too well what could happen. This was what lurked inside the luckiest delivery rooms, the ones whose balloons screamed It's a girl!: pink cigars and flowered onesies and fear.”
Robin Wasserman