The instructor stared at me with cold, cut-me-no-slack determination, then got into a fighting stance, holding one hand out, beckoning me."I saw that movie too!"I said."It was like the coolest movie of all-"He launched himself at me. That was when his day really went downhill.
James PattersonAbout author
- Author's profession: Author
- Nationality: american
- Born: March 22, 1947
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SEASONS PASSED, FALL AND WINTER and spring and summer. Leaves blew in through the open door of Lucius Clarke’s shop, and rain, and the green outrageous hopeful light of spring. People came and went, grandmothers and doll collectors and little girls with their mothers. Edward Tulane waited. The seasons turned into years. Edward Tulane waited. He repeated the old doll’s words over and over until they wore a smooth groove of hope in his brain: Someone will come; someone will come for you.
Kate DiCamillo