young-adult-series

He was about to kiss me. I was sure of it. I had never been kissed before and had no idea what to do! - Delphine Delmar

My first kiss. One tiny, sweet, cosmic kiss. Like falling from a star, onto a cloud, and into a love song.

You don't think you're a vampire, Sam. That kind of thing you know.

Rourk didn__ even know her name, but he knew he__ never seen anyone so magnificent in his life. Her wavy hair glistened in the sunlight. She had a delicate, round face with large, blue-green eyes and full lips. With her cheeks flushed from the cold fall air, she reminded him of a porcelain doll. He knew that her looks deceived; her bold, daring eyes gave her away. She constantly observed her surroundings. Rourk smiled to himself; soon they would be together.

After watching too many scary movies it was hard not to have an overactive imagination, along with an inherent distrust of seemingly benevolent (and sometimes inanimate) things, like lawn gnomes.

Do not be so ridiculous, I can more easily find you someone else._ Gripping the bars of his prison so strongly that the bones of his knuckles showed prominently through his pale skin, the monster growled again, __ will have no other._ Nearing the end of his patience, Klaus demanded, __hy? Why are you being so impossible?_ Turning to the diminutive creature beneath the blanket, he smiled nastily, his light red eyes gleaming, __ecause he wants her.

For a moment she believed he had left, but as she shifted away from the wall she sensed him there beside the bed. He was very close. Wretched curiosity! But she would fight it and not look. __atherine,_ he whispered, his breath rolling in a warm wave across her cheek. A traitor tear spilled out, the humiliation was too much to contain. Gently, a finger dabbed the wetness from her skin. He said it again, softly, as though it pleased him just to say it, __atherine._ __iktor!_ the accented voice bellowed from below. And then the shadow was gone. Darkness overwhelmed her then and carried her away to a land of crows and mocking strangers.

The voice blurs and fades, like a faint cry riding on the tails of the wind. I yawn and stretch, rolling over. I fold my pillow under my head and wait for the voice to return. When I hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing I allow myself to drift back into a dreamless slumber.

She was evil. Couldn't he, who killed demons with his own hands, realize that? And now I had to run for Mardi Gras Queen because of him. Or her. I didn't know whose fault it was but there was no way I could back down now.

Creativity is the catalyst to the future.

She smells of her cooking and the perfume Eau d'Hadrien. My mother wore it, too. She used to cook, like Lili. Our house smelled of garlic and thyme instead of sadness.