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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Agatha Christie

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Practice and improve your writing style below

Below, I have some random texts from popular authors. All you have to do is, spend some time daily, and type these lines in the box below. And, eventually, your brain picks the writing style, and your own writing style improves!

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“We’ve got it,” said Tuppence. “At last....”

 

“Hooray!” she said. “It’s going to be a gorgeous day. And we shall find Tommy. And Jane Finn. And everything will be lovely. I shall ask Mr. Carter if I can’t be made a Dame!”

 

“I rather wonder you’re not there too, Peel Edgerton?”

 

“Well,” said Mr. Carter, looking round him, “there’s nothing more to be done here. What about some lunch with me?”

 

After a few muttered imprecations he handed the Bradshaw to Tommy as being more conversant with its mysteries. Tommy abandoned it in favour of an A.B.C.

 

However, she promised faithfully that she would not breathe a word to Colonel Race, and we went on with our plan-making.

 

CHAPTER VIII (Extracts from the diary of Sir Eustace Pedler, M.P.) It is an extraordinary thing that I never seem to get any peace. I am a man who likes a quiet life. I like my Club, my rubber of Bridge, a well-cooked meal, a sound wine. I like England in the summer, and the Riviera in the winter. I have no desire to participate in sensational happenings. Sometimes, in front of a good fire, I do not object to reading about them in the newspaper. But that is as far as I am willing to go. My object in life is to be thoroughly comfortable. I have devoted a certain amount of thought, and a considerable amount of money, to further that end. But I cannot say that I always succeed. If things do not actually happen to me, they happen round me, and frequently, in spite of myself, I become involved. I hate being involved.

 

“A very good likeness of the Rev. Edward Chichester. Now for the etceteras.” She passed the paper over to me. “Is that your stewardess?”

 

“At any rate,” I said spitefully, “I shall be able to do a little broadcasting about the events of this evening.”

 

“Do you know, Miss Beddingfeld, I think that I once met your father? A very interesting man—on his own subject, and it’s a subject that has a special fascination for me. In my humble way, I’ve done a bit in that line myself. Why, when I was in the Dordogne region——”

 

A slight cloud passed over the actress’s face, and she replied constrainedly:

 

“Useless to inquire at agency they will never have heard of her find out what vehicle took her up to hunters lodge when she first arrived there.”

 

“As my colleague says,” continued Lord Estair, “that affair is over and done with. Luckily, it failed. I wished I could say as much for the second attempt.”

 

Poirot took back the card. The woman departed. Poirot appeared to reflect a little. Then he gave a short, sharp nod of the head.

 

“And Stella means a star, does it not? Famous!”

 

 

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