Nora Roberts
Nora Roberts
Nora Robertsis an American bestselling author of more than 209 romance novels. She writes as J. D. Robb for the in Death series, and has also written under the pseudonyms Jill March and for publications in the U.K. as Sarah Hardesty...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth10 October 1950
CitySilver Spring, MD
CountryUnited States of America
multiple-choice choices true-or-false
You love tests?" "Well, yeah. There are questions and answers. True or false, multiple choice, essay. What's not to love?
inspirational success choices
We make our own choices and we're each responsible for them. Blame and credit belong to the individual. You haven't the right to claim either from someone else.
jobs cutting choices
I want you to take note, Commander, that turning in my badge would be like cutting off my arm. But if it comes down to a choice between the job and my marriage, then I lose the arm.
destiny choices turns
We make destiny with every turn, every choice.
jobs writing making-time
You don't find time to write. You make time. It's my job.
heart light soul
I said, you're the beat of my heart, the breath in my body, the light in my soul.
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First, I really believe that since writer is a term without genre, a good one should be able to write believable male and female characters.
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I've gotten to know a number of readers from being online, and really treasure the time I've spent with them.
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Now, I'll say this. I've never taking a course on writing. I've never read a book on writing. This isn't something that would work for me.
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I'll usually work until about four or five - take a short break mid day to run through the email that's come in or read and post on the boards.
saws young
The very young and the very old often saw what others could not. Or would not.
cat
Tell him I took the cat
eye like-love tragedy
She raised her eyes to his. They had both come from misery, she thought, and survived it. They had been drawn together through violence and tragedy, and had overcome it. They walked different paths and had found a mutual route. Some things last, she thought. Some ordinary things. Like love.
hands broken silence
Who's with her?" Roarke asked, though he already knew. It was just like her. "With her? Oh, ah, hmmm. Webster." Silence fell, a clatter of broken bricks. Peabody folded her hands in her pockets and prepared for the explosion to follow. "I see." When Roarke simply turned back to the screen and continued, she didn't know whether to be relieved or scared to death.