Stone Heart [NOOK Book]

Overview

From New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice comes a long-awaited opportunity for readers to discover an acclaimed early novel–one of this cherished storyteller’s most powerful and complex portraits of the fragile bonds of family and home.

STONE HEART

Nomadic archaeologist Maria Dark is returning home again to the Connecticut shore–a magical place where she, her ...
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Stone Heart

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Overview

From New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice comes a long-awaited opportunity for readers to discover an acclaimed early novel–one of this cherished storyteller’s most powerful and complex portraits of the fragile bonds of family and home.

STONE HEART

Nomadic archaeologist Maria Dark is returning home again to the Connecticut shore–a magical place where she, her sister Sophie, and their brother Peter spent their childhood on the banks of Bell Stream. After fifteen years away, Maria hopes that she can rediscover the joy and optimism of her youth in the arms of her family. But things have changed. Maria’s siblings and her mother have weathered difficult times...and Sophie and her children are not as happy as they seem. Now Maria will embark upon an emotional journey–navigating the memories of a tender past–toward the truth at the heart of her family and the chance for a new beginning.

A remarkably graceful and intuitive novel, Stone Heart reveals the depths of faith and love that can mend life’s most fragile and precious ties. As never before, Luanne Rice inspires us all to look love squarely in the eye and never let it go.


From the Trade Paperback edition.
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Having left her husband and returned home to a seacoast town in Connecticut, archeologist Maria Dark discovers that her sister's outwardly ideal family is torn by abuse. Although Rice ``is an engaging writer,'' she ``raises complex psychological issues and resolves them only superficially,'' said PW. (Jan.)
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780553901436
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 3/29/2005
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 110,383
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author

Luanne Rice
Luanne Rice is the author of twenty-one novels, including Sandcastles, Summer of Roses, Summer’s Child, Silver Bells, Beach Girls, and Dance With Me. She lives in New York City and Old Lyme, Connecticut.


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Biography

Luanne Rice is the New York Times- bestselling author who has inspired the devotion of readers everywhere with her moving novels of love and family. She has been hailed by critics for her unique gifts, which have been described as "a beautiful blend of love and humor, with a little magic thrown in."

Rice began her writing career in 1985 with her debut novel Angels All Over Town. Since then, she has gone on to pen a string of heartwarming bestsellers. Several of her books have been adapted for television, including Crazy in Love, Blue Moon, Follow the Stars Home, and Beach Girls.

Rice was born in New Britain, Connecticut, where her father sold typewriters and her mother, a writer and artist, taught English. Throughout her childhood, Rice spent winters in New Britain and summers by Long Island Sound in Old Lyme, where her mother would hold writing workshops for local children. Rice's talent emerged at a very young age, and her first short story was published in American Girl Magazinewhen she was 15.

Rice later attended Connecticut College, but dropped out when her father became very ill. At this point, she knew she wanted to be a writer. Instead of returning to college, Rice took on many odd jobs, including working as a cook and maid for an exalted Rhode Island family, as well as fishing on a scallop boat during winter storms. These life experiences not only cultivated the author's love and talent for writing, but shaped the common backdrops in her novels of family and relationships on the Eastern seaboard. A true storyteller with a unique ability to combine realism and romance, Rice continues to enthrall readers with her luminous stories of life's triumphs and challenges.

Good To Know

Some interesting outtakes from our interview with Luanne:

"I take guitar lessons."

  • "I was queen of the junior prom. Voted in, according to one high school friend I saw recently, as a joke because my date and I were so shy, everyone thought it would be hilarious to see us onstage with crowns on our heads. It was 1972, and the theme of the prom was Color My World. For some reason I told my guitar teacher that story, and he said Yeah, color my world with goat's blood."

  • "I shared a room with both sisters when we were little, and I felt sorry for kids who had their own rooms."

  • "To support myself while writing in the early days, I worked as a maid and cook in one of the mansions in Newport, Rhode Island. I'd learned to love to cook in high school, by taking French cooking from Sister Denise at the convent next door to the school. The family I worked for didn't like French cooking and preferred broiled meat, well done, and frozen vegetables. They were particular about the brand—they liked the kind with the enclosed sauce packet. My grandmother Mim, who'd always lived with us, had taken the ferry from Providence to Newport every weekend during her years working at the hosiery factory, so being in that city made me feel connected to her."

  • "I lived in Paris. The apartment was in the Eighth Arrondissement. Every morning I'd take my dog for a walk to buy the International Herald Tribune and have coffee at a café around the corner. Then I'd go upstairs to the top floor, where I'd converted one of the old servant's rooms into a writing room, and write. For breaks I'd walk along the Seine and study my French lesson. Days of museums, salons du thé, and wandering the city. Living in another country gave me a different perspective on the world. I'm glad I realized there's not just one way to see things.

    While living there, I found out my mother had a brain tumor. She came to Paris to stay with me and have chemotherapy at the American Hospital. She'd never been on a plane before that trip. In spite of her illness, she loved seeing Paris. I took her to London for a week, and as a teacher of English and a lover of Dickens, that was her high point.

    After she died, I returned to France and made a pilgrimage to the Camargue, in the South. It is a mystical landscape of marsh grass, wild bulls, and white horses. It is home to one of the largest nature sanctuaries in the world, and I saw countless species of birds. The town of Stes. Maries de la Mer is inspiring beyond words. Different cultures visit the mysterious Saint Sarah, and the presence of the faithful at the edge of the sea made me feel part of something huge and eternal. And all of it inspired my novel Light of the Moon."

  • "I dedicated a book to Bruce Springsteen. It's The Secret Hour, which at first glance isn't a novel you'd connect with him—the novel is about a woman whose sister might or might not have been taken by a serial killer. I wrote it during a time when I felt under siege, and I used those deeply personal feelings for my fiction. Bruce was touring and I was attending his shows with a good friend. The music and band and Bruce and my friend made me feel somehow accompanied and lightened as I went through that time and reached into those dark places.

    During that period I also wrote two linked books—Summer's Childand Summer of Roses. They deal with the harsh reality of domestic violence and follow The Secret Hour and The Perfect Summer When I look back at those books, that time of my life, I see myself as a brave person. Instead of hiding from painful truths, I tried to explore and bring them to the light through my fiction. During that period, I met amazing women and became involved with trying to help families affected by abuse—in particular, a group near my small town in Connecticut, and Deborah Epstein's domestic violence clinic at Georgetown University Law Center. I learned that emotional abuse leaves no overt outward scars, but wounds deeply, in ways that take a long time to heal. A counselor recommended The Verbally Abusive Relationshipby Patricia Evans. It is life-changing, and I have given it to many women over the years."

  • "I became a vegetarian. I decided that, having been affected by brutality, I wanted only gentleness and peace in my life. Having experienced fear, I knew I could never willingly inflict harm or fear on another creature. All is related. A friend reminds me of a great quote in the Zen tradition: "How you do anything is how you do everything."
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      1. Date of Birth:
        September 25, 1955
      2. Place of Birth:
        New Britain, CT

    Read an Excerpt

    1

    Maria Dark flew north, from one America to the other, with a bag of treasures between her feet. The man beside her spoke Spanish into a cassette recorder. He seemed hardly to notice the lightning at their wings. The plane lurched, then continued to glide; orange strobes reflected on the clouds that surrounded them. A flight attendant cruised the aisle, checking seatbelts.

    "What time will we land?" Maria asked her.

    "We're in a holding pattern over Philadelphia," the woman said. "This storm is turning to snow in New York."

    "You mean we might land here?" Maria asked.

    "We might."

    Lightning split the sky, and for one instant Maria wished to be on the ground anywhere: Philadelphia, Miami, Machu Picchu. Then she thought of Sophie and Nell, waiting at JFK, ready to drive her home to Hatuquitit; almost absently Maria reached into her bag for a talisman to guide the plane safely north. Her hand closed around the gold goddess she planned to give Sophie. She felt like the mysterious stranger going home, bringing storms with her.

    "Pretty," said the man beside her, admiring the small statue. "Is it Incan?"

    "No, she's Chav’n," Maria said. During their excavation at Chav’n de Huentar, she and Aldo had found several statues like her, and Maria, thinking of a present for Sophie, had commissioned a local goldsmith to copy one.

    "That belongs in the national museum," the man said reproachfully.

    "She's a replica. A present for my sister," Maria said. Aldo had taught her that foreign archaeologists were always suspected of trying to remove antiquities.

    "That's too good for a present," the man said. He flinched at a crack of thunder, then resumed recording.

    Maria figured he thought she'd robbed a grave. She'd have to tell Sophie about it; it would add to Sophie's pleasure in the goddess. Sophie would want details: the fact that the man wore thick glasses and had hairy nostrils, the fact that he began every other recorded sentence with "And furthermore." From his litany, Maria pegged him as a low-level lawyer for the local government.

    Sophie and Nell would be at the airport by now. Just before leaving the mountain, Maria had called Sophie; the connection had been terrible, full of static, but Maria thought Sophie had said she and Nell would come alone. Like the old days, Maria thought. Before Maria married Aldo, before Sophie married Gordon and had Simon and Flo, before Nell married Peter and became their sister-in-law and Andy's mother instead of just their best friend.

    The plane had been veering right, circling for forty minutes, but suddenly Maria sensed it change course. Heading for home, she thought she could smell north. She opened the hand clutching the statue for one quick look. The goddess was fine and slender, nearly as beautiful as Sophie.

    For one moment Maria wondered whether Hallie would meet her at the airport. Of course she would not. Sophie had a ringleader's knack for setting a scene, assembling a party. Sophie would know that their mother had no place at this homecoming. Hallie wouldn't think it seemly to stage a big welcome for a daughter who had left her husband to his glamorous dig, to Chav’n mysteries, to the thin mountain air, who had left him to all those things forever--and for what?

    To return to a place where she hadn't lived for seventeen years, where her mother's house sat on a hill overlooking meadows bordered by Bell Stream on the east and the Hatuquitit Correctional Institute for Women on the west. To return to a town settled by Puritans who had called the Native Americans "fiends of hell."

    To find work in a place where archaeologists taught at colleges or lectured at local Native American museums instead of making discoveries destined for display in the Smithsonian or the British Museum.
    Hallie would never understand why her only child to escape the ordinary would want to return to it.

    Or so Maria thought as the plane from Peru rode the storm's front edge northeast and became the last flight to land before JFK closed down.


    Sophie and Nell stood amid the crowd, whistling and waving so that Maria would see them. Sophie's whistle, incredibly piercing, was unmistakable and took Maria straight back to when the three of them would roam the Hatuquitit hills pretending to be Indian scouts. Now their thick New England clothes--red and blue down jackets, corduroy pants, Nell's sailcloth purse--looked startlingly bright in the fluorescent light.

    "Anyone escaped lately?" Maria called across the crowd. To children growing up next to a women's prison, that question had been as natural to them as "How are you?" or "Do you like the weather?"

    "Not this week," Sophie called back.

    Suddenly the three of them were holding each other in a tight circle. Maria had to drop her bags to hug them properly. Then Sophie and Nell dropped theirs--their six legs formed a cage around the bags, protecting them from the thieves they imagined swarming around the arrivals area.

    "Are you okay? Did you have a good flight?" Nell asked.

    "It was bumpy," Maria said.

    "But are you okay?" Sophie asked, her question meaning something different from Nell's. Maria took a second before looking straight at Sophie. Sophie, like all the Darks, had black hair, fair, unfreckled skin, and blue eyes that hid nothing. Right now they were full of grief for Maria's marriage. Their depth of sadness distracted Maria from her first shocking thought: that Sophie had gained a dangerous amount of weight.

    "I wanted to leave," Maria said. "It was my idea."

    Sophie nodded as if she knew better. Maria, three years older, had felt like Sophie's mother when they were children. But somewhere in mid-adolescence the roles had shifted and Sophie had taken charge.

    "Let's get on the road," Nell said. "We want to beat the storm. . . ."

    "How is everyone?" Maria asked on the way to the car. They shouldered into the driving snow. Her bags had been evenly divided among the three of them; she carried the heaviest two herself--a big metal one full of photographic equipment and a canvas one full of presents. The icy February wind stung her face and reminded her of nights on the mountain, at the dig site near Chav’n de Hu‡ntar.

    "Peter wanted to come," Nell said. "I made him stay at home with Andy. They're having dinner with your mother tonight. Someone has to keep her at bay--otherwise she'd freeze her ass off waiting for you at the end of the driveway."

    "The driveway of her mind," Maria said, and Sophie snorted. Their mother would wait in the driveway for no one; she had perfected utter devotion to her family without ever showing any overt signs of affection. Somehow, Nell refused to see this.

    "Here we are," Nell said, stopping at a red Jeep four rows into the short-term parking lot.

    "Aren't you forgetting something?" Sophie asked Maria while Nell checked all her pockets for the car keys. Ice crystals frosted Sophie's black lashes. She smiled expectantly.

    "What?" Maria asked.

    "To ask about Gordon and the children. They're fine."

    "That's great. I'm sure they are," Maria said. She wondered why Sophie wanted to make her feel guilty for not asking, but Sophie continued to smile. If her face was plump, it was as radiant as ever.

    "I'm just so proud," Sophie said. "I'm an idiot on the subject. Gordon's planning to put a gazebo near the brook. He knows I've always wanted one. . . ."

    "A gazebo? Everyone has those now," Nell said, letting Sophie into the front and Maria into the back. She revved the engine.

    "Gordon's will be different. He's designing it himself," Sophie said, giving Nell an oddly triumphant look.

    Nell pulled up to the parking lot attendant and handed him the ticket. She rummaged through her bag. "Oh, no!" she said.

    "What is it?" Maria asked, leaning forward.

    "My money," Nell said. "Where did I put it?" She stared into her wallet, riffled through papers in her bag.

    "That airport is full of pickpockets," Sophie said, grabbing her own bag to check for anything missing.

    "I'll bet it happened when we put everything down to hug Maria."

    Maria smiled; she had lived away long enough to have lost the New Englander's provincial view of New York as a den of crime.

    "No, a pickpocket would have taken the whole wallet," Nell said. "I'm sure I left home with money . ..didn't I pay the tolls? Did I drop it?"

    "Here's five," Sophie said when horns behind them started to blow.

    Maria felt exhausted and wished she were home. But where was that? Her mother's house in Hatuquitit or Aldo's tent in the Andes? An image of night in Peru filled her mind: the mountain air so clear and cold no scents came through it. She saw herself wrapped in her sleeping bag listening to Aldo in the next tent with his students and assistants. She would fall asleep to his voice lecturing and waken to it whispering "Buona notte." She heard herself sigh.

    "What's wrong?" Sophie asked.

    Maria opened her eyes, shrugged. She heard the click of a seatbelt buckle and saw Sophie hoist herself over the front seat into the back. "You need a traveling companion," Sophie said, settling next to her. She slid her arm around Maria's shoulders. "Take a nap. We'll be home in a jiffy."
    With her head on Sophie's shoulder, Maria thought her sister felt ample, just like a mother. The extra weight gave her a lush roundness about the cheeks, breasts, hips.

    "Do you want to tell me about it?" Sophie whispered in a voice too low for Nell to hear. "Did he find another woman?"

    "No," Maria said. "We just stopped loving each other." That was the truth, but who could believe anything so bizarre? She had been brought up in a town choked with Puritanical roots, where decent people divorced only after suffering heartbreak, betrayal, flagrant infidelity. She and Aldo had been student and teacher, then lovers, then husband and wife, now friends. Maria believed that everything would be easier if they were not, if she could hate him. The discoveries of treasures and civilizations had made their days wild and exciting. But at night in the tent she would fall asleep alone while Aldo shared his rapture with his students.

    "I can't imagine it," Sophie said. "I'm sorry. I could never stop loving Gordon."

    "Then you're doing something right, you two," Maria said.

    "We all thought you were so happy," Sophie said.

    "I know," Maria said. She had heard that so many times already from professors and archaeologists and students on the dig: Maria Dark and Aldo Giordano, the husband-and-wife team known for their meticulous excavations, their investigative approach. One critic had called them archaeological detectives, saying that they uncovered lives--the people of the culture, not only the artifacts. Their faces and stories had been in Geo, National Geographic, Smithsonian.

    "The good part is, you're coming home," Sophie said.

    "Home" to Sophie had always been Hatuquitit. She had commuted to college in New Haven, married a man from the next village, persuaded him to cross the town line and build a house on Bell Stream.

    "How's Mom?" Maria asked.

    "You know Mom," Sophie said in a voice inviting Maria to complain about their mother. Maria recalled Sophie once telling her that she could not remember her mother ever hugging her, not once, all through her childhood.

    Nell sped them east on the New England Thruway. They flashed through blocks of orange light thrown by the highway lamps. Snow fell steadily. Maria shivered slightly and Sophie tightened her grip. Plows heading in the opposite direction sprayed snow into the air. Nell switched on the radio, found a jazz station. Maria felt the rhythm lulling her, felt herself nodding.

    She must have slept. The sound of paper rustling wakened her. Her head rested against the Jeep's door; her neck ached in the thin stream of cold air blowing through a crack. Maria opened her eyes. Sophie was bent forward, rummaging gently through Maria's bag of presents. Maria watched, and from Sophie's measured movements Maria knew she was trying not to disturb her. Suddenly she stopped, as if she had found what she was looking for. She withdrew her hand and there, closed in it, was the small Chav’n goddess. Her eyes wide open, Maria watched Sophie slip the gold statue into her pocket. Then, just as Sophie was turning toward her, Maria closed her eyes again and pretended to sleep.


    2


    Wide-awake in her bed the next morning, Maria heard a pebble strike the house. The sun was just up. She nearly tripped over her long flannel nightgown getting to the window that overlooked the long snowy meadow leading to Bell Stream. Golden marsh grass spiked through the snow; the rising sun turned it pink. Maria peered into the driveway where Nell stood waving. Maria waved back. She threw on her old plaid robe and hurried downstairs.

    "It's freezing out there," Nell said, stamping snow off her boots. "Is Hallie up?"

    "Not yet," Maria said.

    "And she was sleeping when you got home last night?"

    "Yes," Maria said. "I sort of thought she'd wait up."

    "Well, she'll be up soon," Nell said, filling a kettle with water, measuring coffee into a filter, just as though it were her house.

    Maria turned up the thermostat. Nell wanted to ignore the fact that Hallie had gone to bed and Maria might be hurt. But Sophie had understood. Last night, walking into the empty kitchen, Sophie had given Maria a knowing shrug and a kiss good night. But by then Maria had seen Sophie steal the goddess and felt too bewildered to accept her comfort.

    "What brings you here so early?" Maria asked. Sitting at the old oak table, she traced the familiar grain with her thumb. This had been her "place" since childhood, and at various times she had seen in the oak grain a witch, her father's nose, mountains, sailboats, a Pequot sachem.

    "This is hard to say," Nell began, frowning. "I know how close you are . . ."

    "It's about Sophie, isn't it?" Maria said with an ache in the pit of her stomach.

    Nell nodded. "Something's happening to her. Most of the time she seems the same, but not quite."

    "Did you hear her last night, when I'd forgotten to ask about Gordon and the kids?" Maria asked.

    "I know," Nell said. "She took it as some sort of insult. She gets very defensive about him. She always imagines you're slighting him--when it's actually the last thing on your mind."

    The coffee was beginning to smell good, and Maria craved a cup. She wanted to tell Nell about the goddess, but she hesitated. Nell's theory sounded crazy: Sophie imagining people slighting Gordon? As much as Maria loved Nell, she knew that Nell tended to exaggerate and romanticize the Dark family. "What does Peter think?" Maria asked.


    From the Trade Paperback edition.
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    Reading Group Guide

    1. In her preface to the novel, Luanne Rice tells us that the title comes from a poem by Irish Nobel laureate William Butler Yeats, “Easter 1916.” Discuss the relevance of the lines "Too long a sacrifice/Can make a stone of the heart" to the novel's primary characters. In what way is Irish history an apt metaphor for the personal struggles faced by Maria and her family?

    2. Why do Maria and Sophie have such different approaches to love? What does the storyline indicate about the role of nature versus nurture in a child's life? Compare the various notions of legacy presented by Gordon's parents and Maria's parents. What does it take to break a harmful family cycle?

    3. What makes this part of America such a compelling setting for Stone Heart, and for so much of Rice's fiction? How does Hatuquitit, with a rich and difficult history between Puritans and Native Americans, create a meaningful backdrop for Maria's homecoming?

    4. Discuss the role of talismans and possessions in the novel. How does the meaning of the Chavín goddess replica shift over the course of Maria's time in Connecticut? How does Sophie calculate her own self-worth?

    5. The author begins chapter 21 by telling us that Peter had always wanted to be the strong one in the family. How does he compare with the other significant men in Maria's life? Why were she and Aldo not able to form a lasting marriage? Does Duncan's unraveling marriage mirror Maria's?

    6. Discuss the many obstacles that prevented Sophie's family from intervening in her crisis. What ultimately was the source of Gordon's power over her?

    7. What insight do you gain from the chapters narrated by Sophie? What feeds her denial, and the denial expressed by her mother? What turning point does the miscarried child reflect?

    8. What is the significance of the artifacts Maria unearths from the Pequot squaw's grave? How does this ancient love story reflect the novel's contemporary ones?

    9. The community's notion of the prison as being "where bad girls go" is undermined by Sophie's experience there. How would you characterize the temporary family she forms with the inmates?

    10. Why did Sophie believe she could only experience peace through death? Or do you perceive her death as further self-punishment? Do you believe that awareness and understanding of domestic violence have improved since 1990, when Stone Heart was first published?

    11. Each of Luanne Rice's novels presents a unique and provocative human experience. What do we discover about resilience and vulnerability in Stone Heart? In what way does the novel convey Rice's signature approach to storytelling?

    12. Discuss your own homecoming experiences. What were you able to discover about your past by spending time away from your roots? Have you ever been able to serve as an agent for change for a friend or relative in need, as Maria did?

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    Customer Reviews

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    Sort by: Showing all of 7 Customer Reviews
    • Anonymous

      Posted July 31, 2002

      It was her first...

      I guess this was Luanne Rice's first book. I bought it years ago & it sat on my shelf until recently. What a nice surpise! It was a great book. I'd never read her before, so now I am beginning!

      1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted July 10, 2010

      I Also Recommend:

      very different lrice book

      book was not as enjoyable as the rest of the lrice books that I have read and the ending was not as point blank as it needed to be. In short this was not the best the lrice has done and you could tell how much better she has growen in her writing and in the style that she does. This is not my favortie of her books.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted October 30, 2004

      long time rice fan

      I found this book in the bargin bin for $2. What a deal!! She's my favorite, I've read all of her books. The settings in her books make me want to move east. Pointed my daughter to Louanne Rice when she moved from teen lit to more mature reading.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted June 14, 2003

      great

      Like most of her books I loved this one. It was great although quite different from my usual sci-fi thillers and action books

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    • Anonymous

      Posted June 21, 2003

      ACTUALLY HER THIRD BOOK.....

      I'm almost done with this book and when I am, I will have only one more to complete my reading of ALL of Luanne Rice's books. She is a WONDERFUL author and tells another wonderful story here, although it's a bit depressing as it deals with abuse within a family. However, Luanne keeps you rooting for the family and she has such a wonderful way of tying everything together and making you feel the whole gambit of emotions for everyone involved in the story. After this I have to read 'Crazy In Love' and then wait as patiently as possible for her newest book to come out the end of July.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted October 1, 2011

      No text was provided for this review.

    • Anonymous

      Posted June 23, 2011

      No text was provided for this review.

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