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Libba Bray

“A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.”


Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing
tags: gemma, kartik
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The Sweet Far Thing (Gemma Doyle, #3) The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray
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