Carmen sat up when she heard a familiar trill from her computer. It was an instant message from Bee. Beezy3: Packing. Do… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Those were the people who made her something, and without them she was different. She'd held on to them and to that… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Riley was quiet for a minute. She gathered her blanket all around her. "Paul always loved you, Alice. He knows I know… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
As much as I'm drawn to writing about teenage girls, I like the idea of having the freedom to branch out and… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
She had never had a boy talk to her like that. There was no cover of bullshit, no flirtation, no added charm,… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
I knew her hair and her coloring and her shapes would be different next time, but the way she wore her body… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
I hated motorcycles. I said to my mother, 'I'll never get a motorcycle.' And she said, 'You never know what you'll want… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Different people were good at different things, Lena mused. Lena was good at writing thank-you notes, for instance, and Effie was good… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
She thought she would know when it happened. But now, as she looked around, she wondered if it was really like that… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“Because the truth wouldn't be comforting and wouldn't bring them closer again.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“¿Iban a sumirla en la tristeza antes de hacerla feliz? No, por favor.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“When she made her way to the big picture window that framed the dining room table she froze. She stopped breathing. The anger was… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“Lena remembered herself in all the old familiar things they said. She existed in her friends; there she was. All the parts of herself… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“but it was hard to give the real world much notice when he was this close.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“You don't have time, Len. That is the most bitter and the most beautiful piece of advice I can offer. If you don't have… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Gestating characters feels something like the mental equivalent of gestating a baby. In both cases, to create them you lose yourself. Or at least… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth and tenderness… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
