FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's the old story of father making it too easy. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion. Rich folks, once. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done.
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