Cover Reveal: Just One Year by Gayle Forman

Look how gorgeous it is!!!!!!  I'm greatly excited for the sequel to Just One Day!  How could you not be with the cliffhanger at the end?!?!  So, it comes out in less the one year.  Hahaha!  The expected release date is 10/13/13 for all of you anxious readers!  I must say, if the ending of just One Year is the same ending of Just One Day since it is supposed to be the same story but told in Willem's POV, I'm going to be one angry girl!!!  I want ANSWERS.

Blog Tour: Author Interview with Yelena Black (Dance of Shadows)

Today, Lis Les Livres has a special interview with the lovely Yelena Black, author of Dance of Shadows!!!

Book Summary: Vanessa Adler isn't so sure she really belongs at the School of American Ballet. But dance runs in her family. It's been a part of her life for as long as she can remember. Her grandmother and mother were prima ballerinas, and her older sister Margaret was, too. That is, until Margaret mysteriously disappeared from school three years ago. Vanessa is heir to the family's gift and the only person who can fulfill her sister's destiny. She has no choice. But she never could have guessed how dangerous the school is. The infamous choreographer, Josef, isn't just ruthless with his pupils, he guards a sinister secret, one in which the school's dancers-prized for their beauty, grace, and discipline-become pawns in a world of dark, deadly demons.






And now for the interview!

1. Describe Dance of Shadows in three words.
Elegant. Sexy. Scary!

2. What movie title would Zep, Justin, and Josef use to describe his relationship with Vanessa?
Zep: Sleeping With The Enemy
Justin: Little Secrets
Josef: Lolita

3. Between the ballet terms and Josef's dialogue, there is a lot of French in the book. Do you actually speak any French?
No! I wish I did. But I did do lots of research and ran a bunch of the phrases by a friend who is fluent. I also need to add more French to the sequel so I have a good excuse to travel to Paris…

4. When Vanessa looks at Zep, she feels an immediate attraction, thinking, "It already felt like they were intimate, that they had known each other, maybe even loved, each other in some previous life." Do you believe in love, lust, or neither at first sight?
I certainly believe in attraction-at-first-sight. I know what it feels like to take one look at someone and be completely smitten. Love, to me, requires hard work and truly getting to know a person … but the idea of being pulled toward someone by something completely inexplicable … I believe in that.

5. Choose a song as a theme song for Dance of Shadows.
World on Fire by Sarah McLachlan—haunting and romantic.

Thanks so much, Yelena! Best of luck, and I look forward to the sequel:)

Author info: YELENA BLACK is a recent MFA graduate of Columbia University. She currently resides in New York City and is a full-time writer. She has a keen interest in dance and all things devilish.

Delirium Pilot Casting Update (Again)!

Who's playing the male lead, Emma Robert's love interest in the upcoming pilot based on Lauren Oliver's Delirium? 

Daren Kasagoff!!

Many know him from The Secret Life of the American Teenager, but now Daren will be playing Alex in Delirium.


I have to be honest, I haven't read this book, but I'm very anxious to do so.  However, Rachel has told me that it was very good in the beginning, but then it got a little too mushy gushy.  If the cast of the pilot says anything, it's that the storyline looks promising.  The cast includes pretty well known rising stars like Emma Roberts and Gregg Sulkin, and if they have gotten behind this it seems like a good sign.  Just another something to add to my TBR list.  #bibliophileproblems


How do you like the cast?

Second Rate Chances ( Holly Stephens) Blog Tour: Fun (Possibly) Facts

Lisleslivres is very excited to be part of the Second Rate Chances blog tour, and we'll be bringing the fun (at least I think they are) facts.

Sam wakes up in the hospital expecting to find his girlfriend by his bedside. Instead, he finds a bleached-blond diva, claiming to be his fiancée, hovering over him. When he learns that he's just woken up from a coma and has lost the last three years of his life, any semblance of stability he thought he had falls down around him. All he wants – all he needs – is Lil.
After countless visits with her shrink and too many sleepless nights waiting for the one man she loves to walk back through the door, Lil wants nothing more than to separate herself from the life she used to have. But the moment Sam smiles at her, Lil knows it's going to take more than self-restraint to stay away.
Second-Rate Chances is about a young man fighting to regain his memory, and the one thing in his life that felt real. A modern-day Samson and Delilah, it's a look at what it means to love and be loved, and to fight though it seems hopeless.

Fun Facts:
For my assigned post, I was given a few options on what the subject matter regarding these facts could be about.  Now, I went with stuff about me so this might be a boring stop on the tour for many.  Before I start, let me say what this post is really about: EVERYBODY GO READ SECOND RATE CHANCES!  DON"T MISS YOUR CHANCE TO GRAB THIS LOVELY BOOK!

1.  I started this blog October 15, 2012.  Hitting the Follow button would be much appreciated.

2.  I don't know how to use Facebook.  Yeah, I don't have one.

3.  I have been pretending that I know how to speak French for 4 years.  But I would like to be fluent by the end of next year, all jokes aside.

3.  I think arranging books on my shelf is fun.

4.  I would be more excited to meet a vlogger like Joey Graceffa or Jack and Finn Harries than a random celebrity.

5.  I grow out my hair and donate it every year.  Suggestions for a new, short cut are much appreciated.

6.  I am a vegetarian, but I eat egg whites and cheese.

7.  I've been trying to buy only clothes made in America.  It's hard.

8.  Including this summer, I will have been to Europe three summers in a row.

9.  My favorite childhood book is The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg.

10.  The last book I read was Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl (Psst, I don't recommend it.).  

About the Author, Holly Stephens

People have often told me that I live in a fantasy world. Little did they know, I was building an empire of stories in my head to one day share.

I'm a mother first, a wife second, and a writer third. I'm so thankful to have been given this chance to get my stories out of my head and onto paper.

When I'm not writing, I sell plumbing (no I'm not kidding) and read romances that leave my heart a flutter. I know a ridiculous amount of pop culture information and can quote certain movies word for word. Music drives me to write and to also sing off key.



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Stephanie Perkins' Covers Get a New Look!

You know I absolutely loved Anna and Lola and am greatly anticipating Isla, but how do I feel about the covers being changed?  Is it sacrilege?

Well, I liked the covers of Anna and Lola before, but they looked very juvenile.  I was kind of embarrassed to let others see what I was reading despite the stories being absolutely fantastic.  The covers just looked very young and cute.  No doubt, the stories were super cute and young, but their content is still mature.

Original Jacket Art

Original Jacket Art.  Look how accurately Lola and Cricket are dressed!

  The new jacket art reminds me of those "Keep Calm and ______" posters.  I assume it's the font.  I do like that these picture the setting, but I'm still a little sad that the adorables couples aren't pictured.  Some really hot cover models would be on the covers if they were designed that way, n'est-ce que pas?  Now, I know that the cover of Isla features New York, but does this mean that most of the book takes place there?  The blurb is a little ambiguous...

From the glittering streets of Manhattan to the moonlit rooftops of Paris, falling in love is easy for hopeless dreamer Isla and introspective artist Josh. But as they begin their senior year in France, Isla and Josh are quickly forced to confront the heartbreaking reality that happily-ever-afters aren’t always forever.
Their romantic journey is skillfully intertwined with those of beloved couples Anna and Étienne and Lola and Cricket, whose paths are destined to collide in a sweeping finale certain to please fans old and new. 

P.S.  In a recent tweet, Stephanie mentioned that the gang would pop up again in Isla's story.

"@thelibraryhaunt Will Anna and Lola both make an appearence in ISLA? (Like Anna did in Lola?)" Yes. Étienne and Cricket, as well.
— Stephanie Perkins (@naturallysteph) February 27, 2013

J'adore bien Etienne, Anna, Lola, and Cricket, but how is Stephanie managing to stick them all in without it seeming forced?  Are they all going to go on vacation and meet up?  I greatly anticipate it.  Stephanie has never disappointed before, and I don't intend on her doing it come 9/17/13 when it hits the shelves!!   

Review: Dance of Shadows by Yelena Black

Check out our author interview!

Dance of Shadows by Yelena Black

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Summary: Dancing with someone is an act of trust. Elegant and intimate; you're close enough to kiss, close enough to feel your partner's heartbeat. But for Vanessa, dance is deadly – and she must be very careful who she trusts . . .
Vanessa Adler attends an elite ballet school – the same one her older sister, Margaret, attended before she disappeared. Vanessa feels she can never live up to her sister's shining reputation. But Vanessa, with her glorious red hair and fair skin, has a kind of power when she dances – she loses herself in the music, breathes different air, and the world around her turns to flames . . . 
Soon she attracts the attention of three men: gorgeous Zep, mysterious Justin, and the great, enigmatic choreographer Josef Zhalkovsky. When Josef asks Vanessa to dance the lead in the Firebird, she has little idea of the danger that lies ahead – and the burning forces about to be unleashed ...

Characters: I don't know if its just me, but I love these modern books with eccentric male friend characters. They're just characters (drum rimshot). Not that any of Vanessa's friends were particularly memorable because they were laugh out loud funny, but I like seeing the social progress in literature these days.
Like I said, the characters weren't special, but they certainly had intriguing motives that piques my interests in reading the sequel. Definitely by the end of the book, the characters have developed to the point where they have potential to be loved by readers.

Plot: Until the very, very, not kidding about this, end the plot revolves around Vanessa getting inured with her new school and the trials of coping with her sister's absence. I thought that was dragging on. I wanted the action and more romance. Zep and Vanessa weren't pictured enough together, so their feelings didn't seem believable enough to to have significance. I didn't become attached to these characters at all.

Overall: This book disappointed me, but I have hope that the sequel could save the series.

Would I recommend this to a friend? I'll get back to you on this.  If the sequel's good, yes.  If it stink, non!

View all my reviews

Author Event: Stephenie Meyer + Actors Jake Abel and Max Irons

Before I tell of the day's adventure, let me start off by acknowledging my sister's greatness.  Katie, you are the best sister ever for taking me to see Stephenie Meyer, Jake Abel, and Max Irons!

For somebody that's never driven into Philly, Katie did a fantastique job.  We only hit one other car... Kidding.  In reality, the only issue was gosh darn parking!  Where's a parking garage when you need one?  Around and around we continued to go, eventually finding a parking spot very close to the Free Library of Philadelphia.  Yay, except that $1= 30 minutes parking time.  And that's when you must go to the nearest Starbucks and raid their stash of quarters as well as get the hot dog street vendor to reluctantly give you 4 quarters.  In total, we had 3 hours time.  With all of the hype this event was getting, I thought we were undoubtedly getting a ticket.  Or at least Father would be.

From the email that I had received from the person at the library running the event, this is what he had intended the line to look like:

There is a possibility that I drew the arrows in the wrong direction, but it's only a possibility!

Here's what the line actually looked like:

20th St

Wood St

There was a maximum of 1,000 people.  However, it being a weekday at 11AM, only 400 people showed up.  I was definitely expecting more attendance from loyal Twilhards, but I am so glad they were otherwise occupied.  Still, we waited 1.5 hours in 35 degree cold.  4 layers, 2 pairs of jeans (wearing them on top of each other certainly felt strange), gloves, scarf, coat, and boots were not enough to bear the wrath of the winter air.  Fingers and toes were frozen while people inside were nice and toasty.  Really, when the library is that spacious, why were we left outside to wait?  Grr.  The building seemed to be taunting us as we shivered outside the barrier of warmth.

Chilling in line.  Punny.

Finally, we evaded the cold.  Except there was still a bit of a line inside.  Regaining feeling in our appendages, we definitely weren't going to complain.

Now the part that everyone really wants to read about, despite how exciting our tribulations with parking and the cold were.  I met Stephenie Meyer, and honestly she's weird.  Personally, I think she has been jaded by the enormous success of the Twilight Saga.  I have been to a number of book signings, all authors of acclaim.  Most have been NYT bestselling authors or have already had a movie deal.  Nonetheless, they were ALL excited, grateful, and willingly gave back to fans.  Stephenie Meyer seemed ungrateful and kinda annoyed to be there.  

Anyway, I asked about Midnight Sun since her last post about it on her website was in 2008.  The answer was that yeah, it's still a possibility but she's working on aliens right now.  I had walked on, but Katie was next in line and heard her say that she hated answering that question.  Now Katie and her psychologist ways has another theory about her being dark, but I think she's just "snooty" (Thank you, Crystal for the lovely word.)  

Stephenie Meyer

After Stephenie Meyer's table was Jake Abel's and Max Irons'.  There were a bunch of girls in front of the boys who were actually trying to get pictures, but I didn't know this. Thus, I thought you had to get in line again for them.  One of the library workers really confused me by saying to keep going.  I thought I was cutting all those people in line and preceded to their table confused and awkward.  In asking them the super important question, "Who coined the term 'love box'?" meaning the term they used in an interview to describe characters Ian and Jared in love with 2 girls in the one body since a "love triangle" wouldn't be apt. I forgot to ask them to sign the cover of the book right on their faces.  Sorry, Crystal!  And I forgot to take pictures.  But the answer was that it was a dual effort between the boys to come up with that term.

I wanted to get a picture of Max and Jake, but Katie thought we could get posed pictures with them despite the rules.  It ended pretty much after our turn, so we didn't have to wait long to get some personal pictures with them.  Haha to those people that camped out since 12:30 AM to get in line first.  Sometimes it pays to be late, just not when lateness means you must bring in treats to avoid detention!  The boys were taking group shots, and I was intimidated to ask for a solo picture.  But not to worry, Katie's beauty convinced them to take one with me:)  Max said yes to Katie but then he got pulled into taking a group shot.  Afterwards, he remembered his promise to Katie and I got the following picture out of Katie working her good looks:

Max Irons, me

He was very nice, waiting for the camera to get the right angle which was hard with all of the girls grabbing for Max and Jake's attention in a little roped off area (Getting pushed around, not fun).  He seemed charming, and frankly everything sounded better coming out of his mouth because he's British.

Jake was just as nice, and I'm sure he's just as good with the ladies despite the American accent.

Jake Abel, me

I've watched a lot of The Host interviews, and the actors seemed very nice (just look at how fun their bromance is), but I was a little surprised how kind and genuine they were to the fans.  They didn't say no to anyone.  And where was Stephenie Meyer at this time?  She was gone.

If The Host series becomes huge and Stephenie Meyer goes on tour, unless there is a famous person coming too, I am not going.  

Thanks again to my awesome sis for bringing me!

Book into Movie Review: Safe Haven (Nicholas Sparks)

Since when did Nicholas Sparks cross paths with the Investigation Discovery channel?

 6.5/10 stars
I'm a total sucker for Nicholas Sparks' books and movies, so I agreed to seeing this with my sister despite the 12% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.  I wasn't really sure what this was about, but there was a lot more violence and suspense than what I was expecting.  I wanted the satisfactory, cheesy, love story coupled with the bit of drama(aka death by disease that Nicholas Sparks has seemed to trademark) .  Yes, it obviously was a romance, but the darker side of the story really combated with this.  So, don't see this if you just wanted a typical Sparksian flick.

I know Josh Duhamel is aging pretty well, but the casting was odd.  He's 40, and Julianne Hough is 24.  That's weird.

I still liked this movie, and I don't think it deserves a 12%, but it sure wasn't great.  The ending was really sloppy, with the epic battle scene, but what I really didn't like was the throw in of the one character who I can't name without giving spoilers.  I understand the purpose of this character, but her role wasn't executed well.

   

Movie Turned into Book Review: Warm Bodies (Isaac Marion)

CHECK OUT THE BOOK REVIEW OF WARM BODIES!

Over this long weekend, I had a lovely date with Ms. Rachel.  We saw Warm Bodies together.  Let me set the mood for you: I thought I was going to be late for our special kinda Valentine's Day date, so Rachel went to pick out the seats.  And what do you know, she picks the one with a broken armrest! C'mon Rachelle!  What were you doing?  Didn't want to feel embarrassed in front of the one couple behind us?  Seriously, there was like nobody in the theater.  Except... those bratty preteens in the front row making stupid, audible comments and standing up?  Nonetheless, a fantastic movie.

8/10 stars
There's been comparisons to Twilight, especially after seeing those promo pictures!  Besides that and it being a love story, the similarities stop there.  Actually, this story was inspired by Romeo and Juliet (R=Romeo, Julie=Juliet, M= Mercutio, Perry= Paris, Nora= Nurse.  Your mind was just blown, wasn't it?) I know a lot of people think the idea of a human falling in love with a human is completely crazy or stupid, and I felt a little embarrassed to admit that i was reading the book about a year ago when no one knew about it.  However, I'm telling you that this movie has it all- the humor, romance, drama, action, gore.  Surprisingly, this movie was laugh out loud funny throughout.  I was surprised by this because the book was quite dark, with beautiful writing, but  if you want to attract an audience, I totally get why you'd soften the movie.  The romance was so cute!  R is such a sweet guy, and this story really embraces what it is to be human and have compassion.

Ewww.  Eating brains!! I watched a bajillion interviews and knew that the brains in the film were gelatin, but those things looked real!!!  Especially in the scene where R first sees Julie, there's quite a bit of violence in the film.  Apparently, the film was shot as an R-rated film, and later cut back to a P-13 appropriate one instead of shooting it as a P-13 to prevent it from looking like the director held back.

And let's not forget the actors!  Both Nicholas Hoult and Teresa Palmer aren't American.  I previously knew this, so I was listening for their native accent.  Yes, it did slip a little, but if you didn't know it, you would have never know the difference.  If you're on a date watching this, neither one of you will be complaining about watching these guys.  I mean, I was totally attracted to R even as a zombie.  Dave Franco anyone?  Very little on-screen time, but I was staring the entire time.  Yup, swooning the whole movie!  But don't forget that Teresa Palmer practically had 0 make up on... Yeah, I wish I looked that good.

Go see it!  There really is something enjoyable for everybody.

Pilot News: FANGIRLING Over Delirium Casting!!!!

AHHHHH!!!!! I just found out that Gregg Sulkin has been cast in FOX's pilot of Lauren Oliver's Delirium!!!!!!   Who doesn't love this boy?  We know him from Wizards of Waverly Place as Mason, the werewolf and Alex's boyfriend.  Other reasons to love him- He's British and has gotten pretty good looking over the years!

Gregg Sulkin

I'm so excited for him to be playing Julien, Thomas Fineman's son played by Billy Campbell.  And let's not forget about our lead, Emma Roberts!!!  Oh, I can't wait for pilot season.  So much to look forward to :)


P.S. Does anyone else see the resemblance between Gregg Sulkin and Jack Harries, the youtuber?  Still just me?

Jack Harries (@jacksgap)

Gregg Sulkin

Happy President's Day!

"A pen is certainly an excellent instrument to fix a man's attention and to inflame his ambition." -John Adams

I suppose I don't have a quote from either of the presidents whose birthday is being celebrated  but nonetheless, Happy President's Day!  Enjoy your day off.  Do something fun, read a book, stay warm!  Or do your homework because you put it off until today when you had 3 other days to do it!

Pilot Update: Reoptioning The Selection by Kiera Cass

Remember when the CW said it was going to turn The Selection by Kiera Cass into a pilot last year?  Some casting was done and then it kinda fizzed out?  Well, it's coming back for the 2013 fall pilot season!!!  Except only one of the original cast members stayed with it, Sean Patrick Thomas who will play Sylvan Santos.  Sorry, Aimee Teegarden fans: (  The rest of the characters shall be cast shortly.



Summary of The Selection:

For thirty-five girls, the Selection is the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to escape the life laid out for them since birth. To be swept up in a world of glittering gowns and priceless jewels. To live in a palace and compete for the heart of gorgeous Prince Maxon.

But for America Singer, being Selected is a nightmare. It means turning her back on her secret love with Aspen, who is a caste below her. Leaving her home to enter a fierce competition for a crown she doesn't want. Living in a palace that is constantly threatened by violent rebel attacks.

Then America meets Prince Maxon. Gradually, she starts to question all the plans she's made for herself—and realizes that the life she's always dreamed of may not compare to a future she never imagined.

Book Trailer:

Pilot Update: More Delirium by Lauren Oliver Casting

Recently, I posted about Ms. Emma Roberts being cast for FOX's pilot of Delirium! I found out some more exciting info! You can check out the original article from MTV here. 

"...the role of Thomas Fineman, a lobbyist determined to fight tooth and nail for the eradication of deliria, a.k.a. love, a.k.a. this man was clearly not hugged enough as a child, will be played by Billy Campbell. (You might know his craggily handsome mug from his recent appearances on "The Killing"; this blogger recognizes him as the babyfaced heartthrob of early-1990s retro romance "The Rocketeer," in which he was adorable, just FYI.)"

Review: Beautiful Creatures by Margaret Stohl & Kami Garcia

Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Summary: Lena Duchannes is unlike anyone the small Southern town of Gatlin has ever seen, and she's struggling to conceal her power, and a curse that has haunted her family for generations. But even within the overgrown gardens, murky swamps and crumbling graveyards of the forgotten South, a secret cannot stay hidden forever.
Ethan Wate, who has been counting the months until he can escape from Gatlin, is haunted by dreams of a beautiful girl he has never met. When Lena moves into the town's oldest and most infamous plantation, Ethan is inexplicably drawn to her and determined to uncover the connection between them.
In a town with no surprises, one secret could change everything.

Characters:  Bland, boring, banal. I feel bad to use those harsh words, but I must be honnête.

Ethan Wate- He's the typical Southern boy (though he is without an accent despite the movie portrayal) who is enamored by our heroine, Lena Duchannes. The problem I have with him is that he isn't unique, and he is super quick to fall in love with Lena.  I personally do not believe in love at first sight, so I tend not to like characters who claim to be in love instantly.  Yes, Ethan has a few cute lines in which he professes his love for her, but they're not that original...  Things like "I kept ___ with me since the day we met."

Lena Duchannes- I guess some might call her melodramatic, but I'll defend the girl: Your fate being decided on your 16th birthday is kinda a big deal. Anyway, I feel like I really didn't get to know Lena. She's one of those characters who has trouble making friends with others and is therefore reserved. Yet, she does have a bit of a playful side when she gets back at the mean girls. I wish the story was narrated by Lena, because she seems a heck of a lot more complex and interesting than Ethan.

"Link" Lincoln- Here we have our comic relief, though he isn't actually funny, that is goofy but totally has Ethan and Lena's back. This type of character is so over done.  My feeling is that if you use it, you better do it well. Unfortunately, the ladies failed at making Link funny.

Plot: I swear I could have taken some scissors though it would be total sacrilege, cut out 300 pages worth of the middle, glued the remaining pages together, and the book would still have made sense. I don't know if the authors just like to write, but the plot probably didn't require 300 of the 600 pages. That is why it took me 2.5 months to read. It dragged on and on. I'm really proud of myself for finishing it.

Movie: Who the heck cast Ethan? Alden Ehrenreich does not have one of those faces that could pass for a teenager. But I have to say that the cast is all around impressive.  I love Alice Englert's look. She totally pulls off the dark, kinda mysteriously sexy look. Emmy Rossum can pull it off as well.  And Jeremy Irons, Viola Davis, and Emma Thompson!  These actors have pretty nice reputations.  I'll be seeing the film tomorrow, so I'll post a review of that later. 47% on rotten tomatoes isn't terrible. I mean, I just saw one, Safe Haven, with a 12% rating. It wasn't repulsively bad. I still liked it.

Would I recommend it to a friend? No, but I have to say that I'm considering reading the others in the series because I've heard that they get better.


View all my reviews

Happy Valentine's Day!

I've gotten to blogging a little late today, but nonetheless, Happy V Day everybody! For all you couples, I hope you had a nice evening together, and all those alone today, like moi, no worries. I am going to snuggle with the last two chapters of Beautiful Creatures.

I know this day was a lot of mushy,gushy, stuff but what do you think about this holiday? Should it be celebrated to the extent it currently is, or is this holiday a way for candy stores, florists, and jewelers to make a little something something?

I don't know about you, but I agree with the latter. People should be treated with love everyday. You don't need to go all out to show your love on one day of the year. Its the consistent, little things that matter. I would rather have each day someone do a small gesture that shows he cares than have him go over the top on one day. To me, its a little pretentious. Show someone you care through your actions, not materialistic goods like diamonds and chocolate.

Your thoughts?

Cover Reveal: Accession by Terah Edun

She will be more powerful than the Blood could have ever imagined. 



He will not claim a mortal Queen and will do anything to stop her.

Their battle will begin in September 2013.
--

Topics: Magic, Fantasy, Romance, High School

Studio: MacBook Pro 13

Director: Terah Edun

Cast: Amelie Thompson, Richard LeCross

Genre: Witchy Romantic Thriller

Book Release Date: In stores Friday the 13th, September 2013

Rating: PG-13

Goodreads

--------

AUTHOR BIO

Terah Edun is an international development professional and author/lover of all things Young Adult Fantasy fiction. She is a native Georgian, adoptive Washingtonian, unrepentant expat currently living in South Sudan, brilliant dreamer, lover of dogs and not-so-closet geek. Her first novel, Red Madrassa, was released on November 8th and her second novel, Sworn to Raise, comes out in March 2013.


Author Links:
Website
Goodreads
Facebook
Twitter

Cover and Title Reveal: The Dream Thieves (Scorpio Races #2) by MaggieStiefvater

This releases September 7,2013. It is available for preorder.

And cover time...

C'est tous.  And that's all she wrote...for now.

Stephanie Meyer, Max Irons, and Jake Abel Coming to Philly 2/22

I know you just got excited by this post's title because you think Max and Jake are good looking too or you are a closet Twihard!  The three will be at the Central Branch for The Host promotion.  See you there!  

Event Details-

• Date: Fri. February 22
• Time: Line starts at 9 AM, Doors open at 11 AM, first come-first serve 
• Place: Free Library of Philadelphia Central Branch, 1901 Vine St.
• Price: Free :)
• Contact Number: 215-686-5322
• No posed pictures.  Candid photos only.
• Book limit: 2 books/person will be signed by Stephenie
• Only The Host will be personalized with just first names.
• 2 items signed by Max Irons and Jake Abel
• a The Host poster, The Host, The Host: The Official Illustrated Movie Companion ONLY
• NO MEMORABILIA WILL BE SIGNED

Jake Abel as Ian

Max Irons as Jared

The Host Summary-

Melanie Stryder refuses to fade away. Earth has been invaded by a species that takes over the minds of human hosts while leaving their bodies intact, and most of humanity has succumbed.

Wanderer, the invading "soul" who has been given Melanie's body, knew about the challenges of living inside a human: the overwhelming emotions, the too vivid memories. But there was one difficulty Wanderer didn't expect: the former tenant of her body refusing to relinquish possession of her mind.

Melanie fills Wanderer's thoughts with visions of the man Melanie loves - Jared, a human who still lives in hiding. Unable to separate herself from her body's desires, Wanderer yearns for a man she's never met. As outside forces make Wanderer and Melanie unwilling allies, they set off to search for the man they both love.

Featuring what may be the first love triangle involving only two bodies, The Host is a riveting and unforgettable novel that will bring a vast new readership to one of the most compelling writers of our time.

Happy Chinese New Year!

Happy New Year! Now I kinda have to start my New Years' resolution I never started back on January 1:( Exercise everyday,ha! I'll shoot for 3 times a week. Let's not get too ambitious;)

Anyway, on to book related things: I know that I haven't been posting any reviews lately, but I sadly haven't been reading any leisure books. Unfortunately, my "Carly's Current Read" remains true. I started Beautiful Creatures before Christmas break and just haven't gotten into it. I'm 80% through, and all I have to say is that the ending better be epic because absolutely nothing interesting has happened. I'm determined to get it finished by the time I see the movie, which I'm super excited about. Though nobody wants to see it with me but my mother, I will get to it eventually!!!

T'is all. Happy Chinese New Year.

Deleted Chapter: Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins

I absolutely love this book.  If you haven't checked it out, DO IT NOW!!!!
I have previously done a review for it.

The following material was deleted from Anna and the French Kiss. Readers will no doubt recognize many of the passages, because they were readjusted to fit the current, published Chapter Twelve. You maybe-perhaps-might even find a few of these descriptions repurposed in Isla and the Happily Ever After.

My editor—the brilliant Julie Strauss-Gabel—and I cut this material for two reasons:

(1) PACING. The novel, which ended up around 80,000 words, was orginally 100,000. We'd already removed 15,000+ words that weren't helpful to the story, but the pacing in the first half was still dragging. This was the expendable scene.

(2) CLICHÉ. The original Chapter Twelve, though fun, felt too familiar. There are a number of contemporary YA novels that feature a protagonist who is terrible at sports. It's probably because so many AUTHORS are terrible at sports. (Because, you know, we were too busy reading to exercise. Or maybe we read because we were terrible at exercise. It's all very chicken or egg.) I am certainly one of these authors. Throughout my entire schooling, I was picked honest-to-goodness last in gym class. If you've seen the television show Freaks and Geeks, recall the dodgeball episode. Recall the team-picking episode. That was me.

Nevertheless . . . I still enjoy this scene. I hope you will, too.



[We'll pick up toward the end of CHAPTER TEN.]


Rashmi opens her mouth to protest just as the teacher arrives. Every week it's someone new—sometimes administration, sometimes a professeur. This time, I'm surprised to see Nate. I guess all staff members are forced to take a turn. He rubs his shaved head and smiles pleasantly at our class.

"How do you know what I'm doing tonight?" St. Clair repeats.

"Pleeeeease," I say to her.

She gives a resigned grimace. "Fine. But I'm picking the next movie."

Yippee!

Nate clears his throat, and Rashmi and St. Clair look up. That's one thing I like about my new friends. They respect the teachers. It drives me nuts to see students talk back or ignore them, because my mom is a teacher. I wouldn't want anyone being rude to her. "All right, people, enough. Amanda, enough." In his quiet but firm way, Nate shuts her up. She flips her hair and sighs, with a glance toward St. Clair.

He ignores her. Ha.

"I have a surprise for you," Nate says. "Since the weather is turning, and there aren't many warm days left, I've arranged for this class to have a spot in the park for the rest of the week."

We're sitting in a park for class credit. I love Paris.

"We're going to have a football tournament," Nate says.

NOOOOOOOOOO. I hate Paris!

"Soccer," he clarifies, as if that makes it better. But, for some reason, my classmates are excited. Steve Carver pumps a fist in the air. What a meathead. Rashmi and I groan in a rare moment of camaraderie.

"Mer'll be gutted when she hears she's missing this," St. Clair says.

"Since we don't have time for you to change and get down there today, I thought we'd go over the rules . . ." Nate says.

One less day of soccer!

". . . and pick teams."

Oh hell no.

Nate picks captains—Steve Carver and a girl named Nicole, Amanda's best friend—and the selecting begins. Amanda is chosen first. Of course. And then Steve's best friend. Of course. Rashmi elbows me. "Bet you five euros I'm picked last."

"I'll take that bet. Because it's totally me, those people hate me."

"St. Clair!" Steve's voice startles me. Everyone turns to look at St. Clair who shrugs and heads to the front of the class.

"He's always picked early," Rashmi says.

Hmph. Must be nice.

Pretty soon it's down to me, Rashmi, an obese girl named Sarah, and a skinny dude that, for whatever reason, is called Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger is always wearing this expression of surprise, like someone's just called his name, and he can't figure out where the voice is coming from.

Amanda whispers in Steve's ear. He nods. "We'll take Sarah."

"Rashmi," Nicole says without hesitation.

My heart sinks. It's between me and someone named Cheeseburger. I can't even look up. Instead, I focus on a picture of me that Josh drew earlier today in history. I'm dressed like a medieval peasant (we're studying the Black Plague), and I have a fierce scowl and a dead rat dangling from one hand.

Amanda whispers again. I can feel her smirk, and my face burns.

Steve clears his throat. "Cheeseburger."



CHAPTER ELEVEN
"You owe me five bucks," I say.

Rashmi smiles. "I'll buy your movie ticket."

"I can't believe I'm missing football." Meredith is pouting. Even her springy curls look limp and sad tonight. "We aren't playing it in phys ed until spring."

A breeze whips down the street. We hold our jackets tight and shiver. A dusting of brown leaves crunches underneath our feet as Paris hovers on the edge of autumn. "Isn't there some league you can join or something?" Josh asks, putting his arm around Rashmi. She burrows into him. "I see people playing around here all the time."

"Boo." A familiar disheveled head pops between Mer and me, and we jump like startled cats.


[The rest of this chapter plays out the same. Everyone sees It Happened One Night, and Anna and St. Clair have A Moment. We'll pick up again at . . .]



CHAPTER TWELVE
I dread La Vie all day. Nate instructed us to change into exercise clothes before class. We're meeting at a park not far from campus. So, not only do I get to humiliate myself in front of my peers, but I also get to do it in front of sophisticated ladies walking Yorkies and elderly gentlemen playing chess. Not to mention the other local students, ditching to smoke clove cigarettes and soak in the last warm rays of the year.

Even memories of last night—sitting next to St. Clair in the dark, his leg against mine, the look that passed between us—aren't enough to relieve my despair.

Besides, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced nothing happened. Because nothing DID happen. When we left the movie, Rashmi announced, "The ending was too abrupt. We didn't get to see any of the good stuff." And by the time I'd finished defending it, we were already back inside our dorm. I wanted to talk to St. Clair, get a sign that something between us had changed, but Mer broke in and hugged him good night. And since I couldn't hug him without exposing my thudding heart, I lingered behind.

And then we had this lame wave goodbye.

And then I went to bed, confused as ever.

What happened? As thrilling as it was, I must have exaggerated it in my mind, because he didn't act any differently at breakfast. We had a friendly conversation, as always. Besides, he has Ellie. He doesn't need me. All I can guess is that I must have projected my own frustrated feelings about Toph onto St. Clair. Toph and I are still talking, but nothing has changed. It's like our kiss didn't even happen.

And now the ticking clock in history—my last class before the Dreaded Event—is like the ticking suitcase bomb in a bad summer blockbuster. And I don't know which wire to cut, so I'm waiting for it to explode in my face. Josh isn't being helpful. He drew a picture of me tangled up in a soccer net, which might be funny if it weren't so close to what would actually happen if I got near the goal.

When class ends, I slink into the restroom to change and find Amanda Spitterton-Watts and Nicole Burby, captain of my unfortunate team, already in short shorts and strappy tank tops. They're all smooth legs and boobs. No wonder they're popular.

Being allergic to exercise, I don't own any athletic clothes, so I put on pajama bottoms (Oliphant clan tartan) and a black T-shirt (Atlanta Film Festival) instead. Too bad I don't own any Parisian-park-colored camouflage. Perhaps I'll note my surroundings during the game and wear more appropriate colors tomorrow. I'll be Sue Storm, the Invisible Woman in Fantastic Four. Except that movie sucked, and I'd rather be Violet Parr, the invisible girl from The Incredibles, instead—

"Watch it, Skunk Girl." Amanda sneers as I exit the bathroom stall. I wasn't even remotely close to her. She points to my pajamas. "Is your mommy going to read you a bedtime story?"

Is that the best she can come up with? Lame. I wash my hands. Nicole pulls her hair back into her usual tight ponytail—I swear she's cutting off circulation to her brain—and then says, "Maybe her legs are deformed."

So much for being invisible. I scram from the bathroom. Their laughter echoes against the tiles as I run smack into Josh's lanky frame. He steadies me and notices my red face. He frowns. "What's their problem?"

"Nothing," I mumble. "Aren't you going to be late for class?"

Josh examines me carefully, but he decides not to press. "Not going."

"What? Why?"

He follows me outside. "Pre-calc blows. I'm in the front row, and Professeur Babineaux drowns me in spit."

"Oh, I know. Mer sits up front and always leaves spotted." I check the sky, hoping at the word 'spotted,' it might decide to rain. No such luck. "But that's it? You're just gonna ditch?"

"Yup."

I've never ditched, and I don't understand how he can be so casual about it. For the briefest of moments, I wonder would happen if I skipped La Vie. Detention might be better than football. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Probably." Josh flexes his hand and winces.

"You okay?"

"Cramped," he says. "From drawing. It's okay, it's always like this."

It's true that I rarely see him without his brush pen. Strange. I'd never considered art injuries before. "You're really good," I say. "Is that what you want to do? For a living, I mean?"

We pass a typical brasserie—six round tables with cane chairs. A waiter in a long apron bulging with jangling change places coffee before a man with a newspaper. All but one of the tables is filled. I long to sit at that empty table.

"I'm working on a graphic novel," Josh says.

"Really? That's cool. What's it about?"

The corner of his mouth rises into a sly smile. "A guy forced to attend a snobby boarding school, because his parents don't want him around anymore."

I snort. "I've heard that one before. What do your parents do?"

"My dad's a politician. They're working on his reelection campaign. I haven't talked to 'Senator Wasserstein' since school started."

"Senator? As in a senator senator?"

"Senator as in senator senator. Unfortunately."

Again. What was Dad was thinking? Sending me to school with the children of U.S. SENATORS? We reach the park, and my classmates are already gossiping in the middle of a field. Locals amble along the gravel footpath and eye us suspiciously.

"Does everyone have a terrible father?" I ask. "Is it a requirement for attendance?"

"Rashmi and Mer don't, but St. Clair's dad is a piece of work."

"So I hear." Curiosity gets the best of me. "What's his deal?"

Josh shrugs. "He's just a jerk. He keeps a tight leash on St. Clair and his mom, but he's really friendly to everyone else. Somehow that makes it worse."

Rashmi stalks up to us. "What the hell are you doing, Josh? Are you trying to get kicked out of school?"

I edge away. Speaking of St. Clair, where is he? As usual, he's late. Nate arrives and calls roll. He doesn't notice the extra body—Josh, who isn't even dressed out—and it's hard to tell if this makes Rashmi more or less furious.

"Anna!" Nate says. "Where's your pal? Is he coming?"

I startle. The knowledge that Nate knows St. Clair is my particular friend shouldn't make me feel gloaty, but it does. He could have asked Josh, he could have asked Rashmi. But he asked me. "I don't know," I say. "Yeah."

We start without him. Nate calls us to the center of the field. He's carrying a large, canvas bag over his shoulder, which is filled with soccer balls, no doubt. But he unzips it, and my horror intensifies. Jerseys. Red, mesh jerseys.

Oh my God.

Many things in life gross me out: Those tiny, white airplane pillows covered in other people's hair. My ex-boyfriend's grease-splotched polo shirt from KFC. Public swimming pools filled with urinating children. Also on that list?

Used sports equipment.

"Nicole," Nate says. "Why doesn't your team wear the jerseys today?"

The torture never ends. My teammates pull the jerseys over their heads. I pluck one off the ground with my fingertips and hold it as far away as possible. Josh and Rashmi stare. I try not to make a big deal out of it but fail miserably.

"It won't bite," Josh says.

"No, but it may give me some kind of fungus."

"It won't give you a fungus," Rashmi says, perfectly at home in her own jersey. I glare at her as I put on mine.

"You might want to relax your arms," Josh says. "You look like you're doing the chicken dance."

And risk the mesh touching my bare arms? No, thank you.

We take our places on the field, and I position myself as far away from the ball as possible. Nate blows the whistle and everyone scatters. I shuffle around, trying to look like I'm playing without actually doing anything. I glance at my watch. Where's St. Clair? It's unfair he's missing this, when I'm stuck here. He'd also be something nice to look at.

No! I force my thoughts away from him.

I wonder what Toph's doing right now? I wonder what he's wearing? I loved those rare days when I'd see him in street clothes, when he'd come in to pick up his paycheck and he'd be decked out punk-style, bondage pants and safety-pin covered jacket—

"Move it, Skunk Girl!" I'm jerked out of my daydream by the terrifying image of Amanda Spitterton-Watts barreling down on me with the ball. I hurtle aside, and my teammates scream at me.

What? I don't want to get hit.

Amanda streaks down the field, and Josh zips by to block someone from stealing her ball. "Amanda's a bitch to everyone," he shouts. "Don't take it personally." Easy for him to say. He's clearly capable of ball handling.

Ball handling. I smirk to myself.

"What's so funny?"

I'm startled to find St. Clair beside me. His pale cheeks are flushed, I suppose from running here. He's changed into black soccer—football—shorts and a faded green T-shirt. My hormones take note of his lean, muscular legs. Who knew?

"I was just thinking that Josh is good at handling balls," I say, prying my eyes from St. Clair's calves.

"Ah, but not as talented as Steve." He points downfield to where Steve Carver is pushing aside his own teammate to take possession of the ball. Poor Cheeseburger falls to the ground. Steve kicks the ball and whoomp—it flies into the net. "Now there's a bloke who knows his way around balls."

"Where've you been?"

"I forgot to bring a change of clothing. Had to go back to my room. Love the clan tartan, by the way." He nods to my pajamas. "Do you have a matching smoking jacket? A hat with tartan earflaps, perhaps?"

"Shut up." The ball whizzes by. I dangle out a leg half-heartedly to stop it and miss.

"Football's only a week. It'll be over before you know it."

"Easy for you to say."

"Would you like to know a secret, Anna?"

I struggle to keep scowling. I love the way he says my name.

St. Clair steps closer and whispers. His breath is clean and spicy like cinnamon toothpaste. "I'm absolutely, positively rubbish at football. A complete embarrassment to my country."

"But—" I start to ask why he was picked ahead of so many people, but that's rude. Besides, I know the answer. He's attractive and funny and people will always like him. That's so irritating.

"Mind if hide back here with you?" he asks.

"Whatever. I bet you're not even that bad."

"Oh, believe me, I am. Terrible."

"Sure you are." I'm annoyed. No one that confident could actually be awful.

"I am!"

Steve and Nicole whiz past. This time I don't even pretend to try to stop them. "So prove it, Golden Boy."

"Did you just call me 'Golden Boy'?"

I place my hands on my hips, and then immediately throw them off. Ick. I touched the jersey. "Prove to me you suck at something. I want to see you out there"—I gesture vaguely around—"Sucking. Hard."

"Golden Boy?"

"Because I've only been here a month, and even I know you're good at everything." He opens his mouth to protest, but I stop him with a raised hand. "You're good at school, good with the teachers, good with our classmates. You dress well, tell the right jokes, speak fluent French, AND have a girlfriend in college."

His jaw hangs open.

"I'm also willing to bet that you've memorized the periodic chart, you're a master of tae kwon do, and you've never had a cavity. Ever." I square my shoulders. "So prove it. Golden Boy."

St. Clair shuts his mouth and shakes his head. And then he takes off running. Oh, no. He's angry. I can't believe I said that. And now he knows I think he's perfect! I could die, DIE, of humiliation.

Wait a second. He's playing. And . . . he's right.

I don't believe it. St. Clair is really, really bad. He dodges between Nicole and a beefy guy named Michel. Beefy kicks the ball, and St. Clair tries to steal it, but he trips and jabs his elbow into Beefy's stomach instead. Beefy doubles over and moans like a wounded hippopotamus.

"What the hell, St. Clair?" Steve yells, "He's on our team!"

Nicole snatches the ball and tears in the opposite direction, ponytail flying behind her. St. Clair chases after her, his arms flailing like limp fettuccini noodles. He moves in front of her for a steal, but she maneuvers around him, and he blocks Amanda instead, who's trying to save the ball from his clutches. Nicole kicks it in for a goal.

His team shouts and boos, but St. Clair keeps crashing into them. Finally, Nate blows the whistle. "Étienne! What are you doing? Get back to the other side of the field!"

St. Clair lifts a hand in a gesture of apology. "Sorry, sir."

Everyone in the park—Josh and Rashmi included—is shaking their head like they can't believe what just happened. Neither can I. St. Clair jogs back to me. His hair is sweaty, and he grins, waiting for my reaction. The game restarts behind us.

I dread La Vie all day. Nate instructed us to change into exercise clothes before class. We're meeting at a park not far from campus. So, not only do I get to humiliate myself in front of my peers, but I also get to do it in front of sophisticated ladies walking Yorkies and elderly gentlemen playing chess. Not to mention the other local students, ditching to smoke clove cigarettes and soak in the last warm rays of the year.

Even memories of last night—sitting next to St. Clair in the dark, his leg against mine, the look that passed between us—aren't enough to relieve my despair.

Besides, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced nothing happened. Because nothing DID happen. When we left the movie, Rashmi announced, "The ending was too abrupt. We didn't get to see any of the good stuff." And by the time I'd finished defending it, we were already back inside our dorm. I wanted to talk to St. Clair, get a sign that something between us had changed, but Mer broke in and hugged him good night. And since I couldn't hug him without exposing my thudding heart, I lingered behind.

And then we had this lame wave goodbye.

And then I went to bed, confused as ever.

What happened? As thrilling as it was, I must have exaggerated it in my mind, because he didn't act any differently at breakfast. We had a friendly conversation, as always. Besides, he has Ellie. He doesn't need me. All I can guess is that I must have projected my own frustrated feelings about Toph onto St. Clair. Toph and I are still talking, but nothing has changed. It's like our kiss didn't even happen.

And now the ticking clock in history—my last class before the Dreaded Event—is like the ticking suitcase bomb in a bad summer blockbuster. And I don't know which wire to cut, so I'm waiting for it to explode in my face. Josh isn't being helpful. He drew a picture of me tangled up in a soccer net, which might be funny if it weren't so close to what would actually happen if I got near the goal.

When class ends, I slink into the restroom to change and find Amanda Spitterton-Watts and Nicole Burby, captain of my unfortunate team, already in short shorts and strappy tank tops. They're all smooth legs and boobs. No wonder they're popular.

Being allergic to exercise, I don't own any athletic clothes, so I put on pajama bottoms (Oliphant clan tartan) and a black T-shirt (Atlanta Film Festival) instead. Too bad I don't own any Parisian-park-colored camouflage. Perhaps I'll note my surroundings during the game and wear more appropriate colors tomorrow. I'll be Sue Storm, the Invisible Woman in Fantastic Four. Except that movie sucked, and I'd rather be Violet Parr, the invisible girl from The Incredibles, instead—

"Watch it, Skunk Girl." Amanda sneers as I exit the bathroom stall. I wasn't even remotely close to her. She points to my pajamas. "Is your mommy going to read you a bedtime story?"

Is that the best she can come up with? Lame. I wash my hands. Nicole pulls her hair back into her usual tight ponytail—I swear she's cutting off circulation to her brain—and then says, "Maybe her legs are deformed."

So much for being invisible. I scram from the bathroom. Their laughter echoes against the tiles as I run smack into Josh's lanky frame. He steadies me and notices my red face. He frowns. "What's their problem?"

"Nothing," I mumble. "Aren't you going to be late for class?"

Josh examines me carefully, but he decides not to press. "Not going."

"What? Why?"

He follows me outside. "Pre-calc blows. I'm in the front row, and Professeur Babineaux drowns me in spit."

"Oh, I know. Mer sits up front and always leaves spotted." I check the sky, hoping at the word 'spotted,' it might decide to rain. No such luck. "But that's it? You're just gonna ditch?"

"Yup."

I've never ditched, and I don't understand how he can be so casual about it. For the briefest of moments, I wonder would happen if I skipped La Vie. Detention might be better than football. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Probably." Josh flexes his hand and winces.

"You okay?"

"Cramped," he says. "From drawing. It's okay, it's always like this."

It's true that I rarely see him without his brush pen. Strange. I'd never considered art injuries before. "You're really good," I say. "Is that what you want to do? For a living, I mean?"

We pass a typical brasserie—six round tables with cane chairs. A waiter in a long apron bulging with jangling change places coffee before a man with a newspaper. All but one of the tables is filled. I long to sit at that empty table.

"I'm working on a graphic novel," Josh says.

"Really? That's cool. What's it about?"

The corner of his mouth rises into a sly smile. "A guy forced to attend a snobby boarding school, because his parents don't want him around anymore."

I snort. "I've heard that one before. What do your parents do?"

"My dad's a politician. They're working on his reelection campaign. I haven't talked to 'Senator Wasserstein' since school started."

"Senator? As in a senator senator?"

"Senator as in senator senator. Unfortunately."

Again. What was Dad was thinking? Sending me to school with the children of U.S. SENATORS? We reach the park, and my classmates are already gossiping in the middle of a field. Locals amble along the gravel footpath and eye us suspiciously.

"Does everyone have a terrible father?" I ask. "Is it a requirement for attendance?"

"Rashmi and Mer don't, but St. Clair's dad is a piece of work."

"So I hear." Curiosity gets the best of me. "What's his deal?"

Josh shrugs. "He's just a jerk. He keeps a tight leash on St. Clair and his mom, but he's really friendly to everyone else. Somehow that makes it worse."

Rashmi stalks up to us. "What the hell are you doing, Josh? Are you trying to get kicked out of school?"

I edge away. Speaking of St. Clair, where is he? As usual, he's late. Nate arrives and calls roll. He doesn't notice the extra body—Josh, who isn't even dressed out—and it's hard to tell if this makes Rashmi more or less furious.

"Anna!" Nate says. "Where's your pal? Is he coming?"

I startle. The knowledge that Nate knows St. Clair is my particular friend shouldn't make me feel gloaty, but it does. He could have asked Josh, he could have asked Rashmi. But he asked me. "I don't know," I say. "Yeah."

We start without him. Nate calls us to the center of the field. He's carrying a large, canvas bag over his shoulder, which is filled with soccer balls, no doubt. But he unzips it, and my horror intensifies. Jerseys. Red, mesh jerseys.

Oh my God.

Many things in life gross me out: Those tiny, white airplane pillows covered in other people's hair. My ex-boyfriend's grease-splotched polo shirt from KFC. Public swimming pools filled with urinating children. Also on that list?

Used sports equipment.

"Nicole," Nate says. "Why doesn't your team wear the jerseys today?"

The torture never ends. My teammates pull the jerseys over their heads. I pluck one off the ground with my fingertips and hold it as far away as possible. Josh and Rashmi stare. I try not to make a big deal out of it but fail miserably.

"It won't bite," Josh says.

"No, but it may give me some kind of fungus."

"It won't give you a fungus," Rashmi says, perfectly at home in her own jersey. I glare at her as I put on mine.

"You might want to relax your arms," Josh says. "You look like you're doing the chicken dance."

And risk the mesh touching my bare arms? No, thank you.

We take our places on the field, and I position myself as far away from the ball as possible. Nate blows the whistle and everyone scatters. I shuffle around, trying to look like I'm playing without actually doing anything. I glance at my watch. Where's St. Clair? It's unfair he's missing this, when I'm stuck here. He'd also be something nice to look at.

No! I force my thoughts away from him.

I wonder what Toph's doing right now? I wonder what he's wearing? I loved those rare days when I'd see him in street clothes, when he'd come in to pick up his paycheck and he'd be decked out punk-style, bondage pants and safety-pin covered jacket—

"Move it, Skunk Girl!" I'm jerked out of my daydream by the terrifying image of Amanda Spitterton-Watts barreling down on me with the ball. I hurtle aside, and my teammates scream at me.

What? I don't want to get hit.

Amanda streaks down the field, and Josh zips by to block someone from stealing her ball. "Amanda's a bitch to everyone," he shouts. "Don't take it personally." Easy for him to say. He's clearly capable of ball handling.

Ball handling. I smirk to myself.

"What's so funny?"

I'm startled to find St. Clair beside me. His pale cheeks are flushed, I suppose from running here. He's changed into black soccer—football—shorts and a faded green T-shirt. My hormones take note of his lean, muscular legs. Who knew?

"I was just thinking that Josh is good at handling balls," I say, prying my eyes from St. Clair's calves.

"Ah, but not as talented as Steve." He points downfield to where Steve Carver is pushing aside his own teammate to take possession of the ball. Poor Cheeseburger falls to the ground. Steve kicks the ball and whoomp—it flies into the net. "Now there's a bloke who knows his way around balls."

"Where've you been?"

"I forgot to bring a change of clothing. Had to go back to my room. Love the clan tartan, by the way." He nods to my pajamas. "Do you have a matching smoking jacket? A hat with tartan earflaps, perhaps?"

"Shut up." The ball whizzes by. I dangle out a leg half-heartedly to stop it and miss.

"Football's only a week. It'll be over before you know it."

"Easy for you to say."

"Would you like to know a secret, Anna?"

I struggle to keep scowling. I love the way he says my name.

St. Clair steps closer and whispers. His breath is clean and spicy like cinnamon toothpaste. "I'm absolutely, positively rubbish at football. A complete embarrassment to my country."

"But—" I start to ask why he was picked ahead of so many people, but that's rude. Besides, I know the answer. He's attractive and funny and people will always like him. That's so irritating.

"Mind if hide back here with you?" he asks.

"Whatever. I bet you're not even that bad."

"Oh, believe me, I am. Terrible."

"Sure you are." I'm annoyed. No one that confident could actually be awful.

"I am!"

Steve and Nicole whiz past. This time I don't even pretend to try to stop them. "So prove it, Golden Boy."

"Did you just call me 'Golden Boy'?"

I place my hands on my hips, and then immediately throw them off. Ick. I touched the jersey. "Prove to me you suck at something. I want to see you out there"—I gesture vaguely around—"Sucking. Hard."

"Golden Boy?"

"Because I've only been here a month, and even I know you're good at everything." He opens his mouth to protest, but I stop him with a raised hand. "You're good at school, good with the teachers, good with our classmates. You dress well, tell the right jokes, speak fluent French, AND have a girlfriend in college."

His jaw hangs open.

"I'm also willing to bet that you've memorized the periodic chart, you're a master of tae kwon do, and you've never had a cavity. Ever." I square my shoulders. "So prove it. Golden Boy."

St. Clair shuts his mouth and shakes his head. And then he takes off running. Oh, no. He's angry. I can't believe I said that. And now he knows I think he's perfect! I could die, DIE, of humiliation.

Wait a second. He's playing. And . . . he's right.

I don't believe it. St. Clair is really, really bad. He dodges between Nicole and a beefy guy named Michel. Beefy kicks the ball, and St. Clair tries to steal it, but he trips and jabs his elbow into Beefy's stomach instead. Beefy doubles over and moans like a wounded hippopotamus.

"What the hell, St. Clair?" Steve yells, "He's on our team!"

Nicole snatches the ball and tears in the opposite direction, ponytail flying behind her. St. Clair chases after her, his arms flailing like limp fettuccini noodles. He moves in front of her for a steal, but she maneuvers around him, and he blocks Amanda instead, who's trying to save the ball from his clutches. Nicole kicks it in for a goal.

His team shouts and boos, but St. Clair keeps crashing into them. Finally, Nate blows the whistle. "Étienne! What are you doing? Get back to the other side of the field!"

St. Clair lifts a hand in a gesture of apology. "Sorry, sir."

Everyone in the park—Josh and Rashmi included—is shaking their head like they can't believe what just happened. Neither can I. St. Clair jogs back to me. His hair is sweaty, and he grins, waiting for my reaction. The game restarts behind us.

"Wow. I don't think I'll ever be picked last again," I finally say.

He laughs in his usual confident manner. "Aw, they'll forget about it by the time rugby rolls around."

"Rugby?"

He pokes me. "Only kidding. So how was I?"

"On a scale from one to ten?"

"Ten being Beckham, one being Posh."

"I'm gonna have to go with a deux."

He whistles. "And I was hoping for trois."

"I'm impressed. You stuck with it."

"Stick with me, and you'll never have to touch that ball."

I hold out my hand. "Deal." St. Clair shakes it. His skin is hot and damp, but I shiver.

He's right again. Everyone steers clear of us for the remainder of class, which allows us to discuss the best movie trilogies of all-time. I vote for The Lord of the Rings, but he thinks it's the original Star Wars—Seany would love him—even after I point out that it's not a trilogy, because you have to count the newer episodes. To which he replies, "Blasphemy!"

I'm glad he didn't say The Godfather, which is such a male cliché. I cringe, remembering that Toph claims it as his favorite. I'm not even sure he's seen the whole thing, because when I argued the pitfalls of Part III—it doesn't work as a standalone, the plot is convoluted, the ending weak—he changed the subject.

Nate blows the whistle again, and the game is over. I'm surprised. That was fast. I carefully peel off the jersey and toss it toward Nate's bag.

Josh finds us. "What the hell was that, St. Clair?"

Rashmi rolls with laughter. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, yeah," St. Clair says. He's in a good mood.

"No, seriously," Josh says. "I've never seen anything like it, and we've been friends for—how many years now?"

St. Clair shrugs.

"Whatever it was, it was awesome," Rashmi says. "Wait 'til we tell Mer."

"I've seen you play before," Josh insists. "You are not that horrible."

Startled, I look at St. Clair, but he won't meet my gaze. He did that on purpose? Why would he embarrass himself like that? For me? I don't know how I feel about this. Angry because he is good at sports, and he lied. Flattered because he likes me enough to draw the attention away from me. Embarrassed because he thinks I need his help.

"Anyone catch what Professeur Wakefield's paper is on?" St. Clair asks. "I wasn't paying attention when he assigned it."

Rashmi fills him in, while I think, Yes, you were. Stop changing the subject. As his lab partner (and, okay, someone who watches him a little too closely), I know for a fact that he jotted down our homework, because he wrote it next to this cute scribble of an elephant he made during a lecture on magnetic fields.

The wind picks up, and the chestnut trees rustle their yellow leaves. I rub the chill from my arms. St. Clair drops behind the others and walks beside me. "Oh, and Anna. One more thing."

"Yeah?"

He grins. "Don't ever call me Golden Boy again."