I always wanted a father. Any kind. A strict one, a funny one, one who bought me pink dresses, one who wished I was a boy. One who traveled, one who never got up out of his Morris chair. Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief. I wanted shaving cream in the sink and whistling on the stairs. I wanted pants hung by… — Judy Blundell Copy Share
When a family breaks you don't hear the crack of the breaking. You don't hear a sound. — Judy Blundell Copy Share Image
“You're a watcher, aren't you?" Peter said. "I can tell. You watch and listen. But you know what I'm betting. The thing you can't see so clear is yourself." I was startled. Here I was, trying to come up with something to say about the weather, and he said something real. "What do you mean?" I asked. "You don't walk… — Judy Blundell Copy Share
Don't just tell me a mystery; give me a world. Suzanne Myers delivers a hurricane-ravaged island shimmering with atmosphere and dense with secrets. This… — Judy Blundell Copy Share Image
“It had never occurred to me that I could do something without permission. 'May I' was a way of life for a girl like… — Judy Blundell Copy Share Image
I drove in last night,' he said. 'I couldn't sleep, it was too hot. So I went outside. I was feeling melancholy. Then I… — Judy Blundell Copy Share Image
“Could it really happen like this?" he asked. "That a girl like you can make me feel..." "Make you feel what?" "Make me feel,"… — Judy Blundell Copy Share Image
“I took off one of the high-heeled sandals, the white sandals my mother prized, and threw it into the pool. That's when I noticed him. He was on the other side of the pool, dressed in a white shirt and khaki pants. He had lowered the chair until it was flat, and he was lying back on it, face to… — Judy Blundell Copy Share
