America Singer, one day you will fall asleep in my arms every night. And you'll wake up to my kisses every morning.
I hit your thigh!” “Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh.
ELVIS PRESLEY was bigger than life. His success was documented and laid out for him. He came to the first show I had in Memphis, and it was very nice. He sort of treated me like an equal, because we were both fresh in the business. We got to be great friends and kindred souls.
Oh, yes. She’s still here,” Maxon said, not letting his eyes wander from Gavril’s face. “And I plan on keeping her here for quite a while.
I love you, America Singer. As long as I live, I'll love you." There was some deep emotion in his voice, and it caught me off guard. "I love you, Aspen. You'll always be my prince.
America Singer, you get back here." He ran in front of me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we stood, chest to chest. "Tell me," he whispered. I pinched my lips together. "Fine, then I shall have to rely on other means of communication." Without any warning, he kissed me.
And Carolina will be cheering on the beautiful daughter of Magda and Shalom Singer, the new Lady America Singer!
He gave a dark chuckle. “But you’re not, so you had absolutely no qualms about kneeing me in the groin, right?” “I hit your thigh!” “Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh,” he replied, his voice full of skepticism.
You were the one who changed us when you left me in the tree house; and you keep thinking that if you push hard enough, you can make everything go back to before that moment. It doesn't work that way. Give me a chance to choose you.
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