Once I got home, though, and saw several packages on my front porch, all the crap from the day disappeared. A few had smiley faces on them. Squealing, I grabbed the boxes. Books were inside-- new release books I'd preordered weeks ago.

Why are you in my room?___ecause I can be.___ou shouldn__ be.___ave it, Rochester. You broke my nose.___oes it hurt?__e lifted a hand toward his face and dropped it. __ou could say that.___ood.__e nudged a tray on the floor with his boot. It had oatmeal, toast, and orange juice on it. __ungry?__onor__ stomach growled. __o.__yder__ lips turned up in a fleeting sadistic smile. He kicked the tray across the room. It hit the wall and overturned. __ood.

To know of the existence of evil, true evil that corrupted the world, had forever altered her heart and mind. If she had chosen a different path, she wouldn't have slept another night. Her head would have been restless as she thought only of the horrors that might be creeping outside her door, waiting to rend her flesh. She would not live a life as the hunted; she would be the hunter.

There are countless reasons for reading, but when you__e young and uncertain of your identity, of who you may be, one of the most compelling is the quest to discover yourself reflected in the pages of a book.

What would angel lips taste like? Sunshine? Marshmallows? Or something altogether different? Maybe buttered-popcorn jelly beans.

Thanks,_ I muttered and added under my breath, __ouchebag.__e laughed, deep and throaty. __ow that__ not very ladylike, Kittycat.__ whipped around. __on__ ever call me that,_ I snapped.__t__ better than calling someone a douchebag, isn__ it?_ He pushed out the door. __his has been a stimulating visit. I__l cherish it for a long time to come.__kay. That was it. __ou know, you__e right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you,_ I said, smiling sweetly. __ou__e a dickhead.___ dickhead?_ he repeated. __ow charming.__ flipped him off.