Cheyanne Thomas

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It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Edward’s arms. But I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair in my face and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore’s edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything. Rosalie, her hair swinging wet and golden down to the back of her knees, was ...more
Eclipse (Twilight, #3)
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