You know, that family room could use a woman's touch.
It lists the woman's name and township.
A voice from the other stall cried out the name Julie, but I had opened it too, and with knife at the woman's throat, calmly told her to adjust her clothing and come with me.
In all his years, he hadn't found anything as soothing to his nerves as a woman's silky skin, heady scent, and warm body.
And yet, she couldn't forget what she'd seen him doing-- drinking another woman's blood as Talon did hers!
The woman's fate was suddenly of more concern to Jule than messing with the purple-eyed or green-eyed trolls.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the brake lights of the woman's car as she drove down the driveway.
"Ms. Fast, this is Linda from Dr. Mallard's office," an older woman's voice said.
"It's so creepy," a woman's voice complained.
Even demons feared Past-Death; she'd ride on the small woman's reputation.
A woman's pale blue flowered sweater was draped over the passenger seat.
Dean thought about the pictures, especially the one of Dickinson Faust standing next to his Jeep, with the woman's sweater hanging over the seat.
"She's alive," Deidre said quickly, seeing the woman's distress.
Alex came complete with deep pockets... every woman's dream, but he was conservative when it came to spending.
A flush spread across the woman's face, and anger glittered in her eyes.
Deidre's gaze fell to the woman's protruding belly, and she suddenly understood.
Kris left, and Gabriel closed his eyes, crossing into the shadow world before emerging on the street outside the woman's apartment building.
He studied the DNA molecule to see if the child was related to the man.
Your woman's sister needs attending to.
They were a handsome couple, the elegant woman's hair so fine and blonde it resembled white silk.
While the sole down stairs room would have saved considerable huffing and puffing, Dean feared the smaller quarters and especially the bed would not adequately accommodate the woman's substantial mass.
Too bad we don't have the Ouray woman's side of this correspondence.
It had been years since he'd heard a woman's compassion.
"Please wait," came the woman's response.
"The preferred fate for any demon," a woman's voice said.
Katie started in the direction of the woman's voice. She stumbled over fallen, slick wood and brambles she couldn't see. Whatever magic that had cleared a path for her was gone. She struggled through the jungle before calling out, "Can you hear me? I can't see much. You'll have to say something, so I can find you."
"Dreadful creatures!" exclaimed the woman's voice.
"Are you hungry?" asked the woman's voice.
Then, too, there is in German literature a fine reserve which I like; but its chief glory is the recognition I find in it of the redeeming potency of woman's self-sacrificing love.
Dr. Gillett of Illinois took us to the Liberal Arts and Woman's buildings.
Beside, clothes introduced sewing, a kind of work which you may call endless; a woman's dress, at least, is never done.
The rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the next room.
"Wait a bit, here's a letter for you," said the old man suddenly, taking a letter addressed in a woman's hand from a bag hanging above the table, onto which he threw it.