WWI era English poet Rupert

Usage examples of brooke.

Tell Me a Story, the bookstore Brooke had owned for the past two years.

But Isaac had been nowhere in sight and there was no way Brooke could begin the day without molten sludge oozing through her veins, waking her up.

Her heart hammering, the fingers of her left hand christened in the exact same manner as the ones on her right and now smarting, Brooke narrowly avoided what could have been a very nasty accident.

Stepping back and to the side, Brooke realized that the man was not alone.

Their dresses were similar, if not exactly the same, but one face was as close to a mirror image of the other as any thing Brooke had ever seen.

After a third sip, Brooke looked at the dwindling contents of her cup thoughtfully.

Sufficiently fortified with caffeine, Brooke threw the empty container into the wastebasket behind her cash register, then squared her shoulders.

Making her way to the rear of the store and the storage room that also doubled as her office, Brooke stopped and sucked in her breath.

In either case, Brooke knew that the last thing a child welcomed was a condescending adult.

For the second time that day Brooke came to an abrupt halt because of the tall dark-haired man.

Confused, Brooke looked down at the little girl whose hand was firmly tucked into hers.

Somewhere, Brooke decided, there had to be an overheated cloning machine given over to producing tight, almost jet-black curls, rosebud mouths and big, luminous blue eyes with lashes any grown woman would kill for.

Judging by his tone, Brooke thought, Tiffany was probably every bit the handful she appeared.

If he meant that to be a no, he was going to have to be clearer than that, Brooke observed.

Coming over to pick up the scattered spoils, Brooke laughed as she made eye contact with Tif fany.