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Claire scraped her chair back, walked over to the cordless phone lying on the counter, and dialed from the business card still stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. Four rings, and a cheerful voice answered on the other end and announced she’d reached Common Grounds. “Hi,’” Claire said. “Can I talk to Sam, please?’”“Sam? Hold on.’” The phone clattered, and Claire could hear the buzz of activity in the background—milk being steamed, people chatting, the usual excitement of a busy coffee shop. She waited, jittering one leg impatiently, until the voice came back on the line. “Sorry,’” it said. “He’s not here tonight. I think he went to the party.’”“The party?’”“You know, the zombie frat party? Epsilon Epsilon Kappa? The Dead Girls’ Dance?’”“Thanks,’” Claire said. She hung up and turned to face Michael and Eve, who were staring at her in outright surprise. She held up the phone. “The power of technology. Embrace it.

Rachel Caine
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No matterwhat he did to make Claire’s life better or show her he’d changed, these memories would always linger in the recesses of his mind. For the rest of his life, he’d know what he’d done. Tony hated himself for all of it—hell, he always had the end justifies the means argument, but even he didn’t believe that anymore. Not now. Not now that he knew Claire and loved Claire.

Aleatha Romig, Convicted
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Both girls jumped at a hard blow on the door. Eve hastily unlocked the door and stepped back as it flew open, and Shane charged through.“How—?’” He was breathing hard, and he had a crowbar in his hand. He’d have broken through the locks, Claire realized, if he’d had to. She came toward him slowly, trying to figure out what he was feeling, and he dropped the crowbar and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and the warm, fast pump of his breath on her skin made her shiver in raw delight. “Oh Christ, Claire. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’”“Not your fault,’” Eve said. She held out the field hockey stick. “Look! I hit him. Um, twice.’”“Good.’” Shane kissed Claire’s cheek and let her slide back down to the floor, but he kept hold of her arms. His eyes, bright under the bruises and swelling, surveyed her carefully. “He didn’t hurt you? Either of you?’”“I hit him!’” Eve repeated brightly, and brandished the stick again for emphasis

Rachel Caine, The Dead Girls' Dance
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Claire started to follow, but Shane's grip on her arm had tightened, and he was holding her back."What?" she asked, and turned to face him. God, he looked amazing. He needed to let Eve dress him all the time."Before we go in," he said, and bent and kissed her. Claire distantly heard the whistles and catcalls of the shot drinkers -- distantly, because the kiss was sweet and hot and wild, and there was something crazy in it that made her just quiver i

Rachel Caine, Midnight Alley
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Sam was staring at Claire with about the same amazement as his brother had shown. Claire didn’t seem to realize it, or else she was too preoccupied to think of it, but she was the second thunderbolt that had fallen on this long-hidebound household in as many days. First one of the hated race of doctors had been shoehorned in on them as the only thing that might get them out of an already nightmarish situation, and now this matter-of-fact slip of a girl had pushed into it of her own accord. They must have felt like the world was coming down around their ears.

Elisabeth Grace Foley, Left-Hand Kelly
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Claire hated to say it, but she knew the answer, in her heart. “Because he feels something for me, and he wanted to give me a chance to live. Like him. With him. But I refused.”Shane turned and looked at her, a blank expression on his face that turned quickly into . . . something else. Claire was glad Myrnin had gotten out while he still could. “Great,” he said. “I knew it.”“It’s not like that. He’s—” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s not like he’s in love with me or anything; it’s more complicated than that. I don’t even think he understands it, exactly.”“Yeah, he only loves you for your mind,” Shane said...

Rachel Caine, Last Breath
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His lips parted under hers, damp and soft and warm, and she forgot all of that. Her entire life focused in on the sensations, the gentle pressure that grew more intense the longer the kiss went on.Chaste kisses, then dirtier ones, and man, those tasted good. They tasted better the wider her mouth opened, and especially after his tongue touched hers.She could have done a whole semester of kissing with Shane. Intense personal study. With lab classes.Time really wasn’t happening for her, but eventually Claire realized that there was a soft glow coming from the windows, and she was numb and sore from sitting on the floor. She winced as a muscle in her back protested, and Shane reached out, pulled her up, and settled himself on the couch.He stretched out, and extended a hand to her. She stared, tingling and confused. “There’s no room.’”“Plenty of room,’” he said.She felt breathless and kind of wild, stretching out on the tiny area of sofa cushion available next to him, and then smothered a yelp as Shane picked her up and draped her over his chest and, oh my God, over all the rest of him, too.“Better?’” he asked, and raised his eyebrows. It was a real question, and he was looking for a real answer. Claire felt a blush building a fire in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away from his gaze.“Perfect,’” she said.

Rachel Caine, The Dead Girls' Dance
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silence across the field. When they reached the edge of the forest, Claire’s anxiety faded. It really would be easier

Christine Johnson, Claire de Lune
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Foreword of my book: The Pawn“It is being said that time and space could be tied to their creator’s stance of what they are to him or her. It can possibly be perceived by those who become the receivers of this viewpoint as something different or the same.” (Claire Manning Writer/Author 2016)

Claire Hamelin Manning, The Pawn: Could you have lived before this life?
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Claire started to unbutton her blouse and looked over her shoulder at Sam, who tried to discreetly sneak a peek at her. She reached down to the bed and picked up the nightshirt the hotel staff provided, per Lacy's request, an extra-large white cotton T-shirt sporting the hotel's name and logo in classy gray lettering.They also provided a pair of gray cotton boxers for Sam. He picked them up. "Not bad. They really thought of everything, huh?""Yes, it was very thoughtful of Lacy. We won't have to sleep in our clothes," Claire agreed on her way to the bathroom to change."Or in the buff, which wouldn't be such a bad thing," Sam said in a low voice."I heard that, Sam," Claire yelled from the bathroom."Wouldn't be such a bad thing." Sam called back."That remains to be seen." She giggled."Yeah, well you can't blame a guy for trying.

Carolyn Gibbs, Murder in Paradise
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